


Collide

by casastella



Series: War of Hearts [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Angst, Background Relationships, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mention of drugs but no one uses it, Original Character Death(s), Sexual Content, Slow Burn, mention of PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26912842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casastella/pseuds/casastella
Summary: “What now?” Semi asked.Shirabu turned to him. “What do you mean?”“Well, I don’t know if you noticed but we fucked. Twice now. Is this going to become a regular thing or…”Shirabu thought for a minute, then answered, "I want to do this again when I’m stressed. If you want.”“No strings attached?”“Sure.”~Between scathing insults and swinging fists, sleeping with Shirabu was the last thing on Semi's mind. But it is surprisingly easy to get that pebble rolling down the hill.Strings don't start out attached. They grow and tangle around Semi's heart.
Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou
Series: War of Hearts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953760
Comments: 53
Kudos: 216





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you have not read Commotion, I very highly recommend that you do that before reading this fic. It lays out all the key foundation to understand the plot and also the beginning of Semi and Shirabu's journey. You'll probably be confused without reading that first. I kept the two fics separate is because I wanted the FWB part to be on its own. 
> 
> I think I have tagged what I needed to but please do let me know if I've missed anything. I will be uploading this fic once a week.

Semi took a punch to the stomach in exchange for striking the side of his hand against Shirabu’s throat, holding back considerable amount of strength so it was no more than a tap. Still, Shirabu coughed and retreated.

“Don’t step off this mat,” Semi ordered. “Doesn’t matter if you have a fist jammed down your throat. If you’re not dead, the fight isn’t over. Get back here.”

Shirabu glared and panted heavily, sweat dripping down his face, soaking through his shirt. With the back of his hand, he wiped his mouth and over his jaw where a pink scar rested in a jagged, raised line. Semi took that as a sign he was ready and charged, fist swinging in the air. Shirabu blocked it – in the right direction – and Semi had half a heartbeat to dodge the coming counterattack.

He dropped to a sweep and Shirabu’s leg was already up as his foot connected with Semi’s side, making him go sprawling across the mat. Shirabu wasn’t done with his counter apparently as he jumped on Semi, sitting right across his torso, gripping the collar of Semi’s shirt and fist raised, ready to throw another punch. But he paused there, teeth bared like a feral puppy.

In the month since his first mission, Shirabu had improved at an alarming rate. His aim was more accurate, reaction time was faster, hands steadier and movements more certain. By his third mission, he stopped sticking to Ushijima and covered his own grounds, integrating seamlessly into the flow of the team like he was always meant to be here. Semi couldn’t understand why Washijou had chosen Shirabu of all people, but now he was starting to understand. His chest tightened every time he thought about it.

“Well?” he said to Shirabu. “Aren’t you going to hit?”

“Aren’t you?”

Semi bucked his hips up suddenly and threw Shirabu off, using his knee to pin him instead of using his whole body- unlike some people.

“You said you wanted me to ‘teach’ so that’s what I’m doing. If you want me to go back to pummelling you, I’d be more than happy to.”

“Are you guys still not done?” Yamagata’s voice came from the door. A grey towel hanged around his shoulders, fresh out of the shower. “We have an assignment tomorrow. Give it a rest.” He grinned. “Come play with us instead. Reon’s got the cards out.”

Semi looked down at Shirabu whose hair matted with sweat and grime, face flushed red, struggling to push Semi’s knee off his chest. He didn’t seem to be done with Semi and Semi certainly wasn’t done with him either but this was nothing new.

Semi didn’t know why but something about Shirabu made his hands itch with the need to _do_ something. When that ‘something’ happened to be beating the crap out of each other with merciless taunts, he didn’t want to stop. Somehow it was never satisfying no matter how many times he beat Shirabu because he had to let Shirabu win sometimes too. Lately, it’d become less ‘letting’ him win than actually losing, and that did nothing to ease the itch.

“Come on, take a break,” said Yamagata. “If you fuck up tomorrow, I’m not saving your asses.”

Semi let Shirabu go. Satisfied, Yamagata went off with a final call to play cards with them. After Semi stood, he held out a hand for Shirabu who ignored that entirely in favour of heaving himself up. Semi pointedly kept his hand there and nodded at it. Shirabu rolled his eyes. It’d been two months and Semi still couldn’t understand what Shirabu’s problem was.

“It’s not going to kill you to let me help sometimes,” he said.

“I don’t need help.”

Semi was trying. He was trying so hard to be civilised but this jerk made it impossible. Semi could count on one hand the number of times Shirabu gave him a proper response that wasn’t halfway rude or condescending. Heck, Semi even _apologised_ for being an asshole at the beginning but apparently nothing was going to make Shirabu happy. At this point, Semi had accepted that rude was just a part of his personality.

They cleaned up the training room and ended up at the showers, choosing cubicles at the opposite ends like they were children in a petty fight. Semi accepted that too. He rubbed himself raw under lukewarm water until he heard Shirabu’s shower turn off first, followed by rustling of clothes. Semi’s skin turned rough and wrinkly by the time he turned off his own shower and stepped outside, grabbing his towel from where he left it on the benches.

Shirabu was already dressed in his pants, his phone pressed to his ear with one hand while the other dried his hair with a towel.

“Yeah, training went a bit over time today,” he was whispering, glancing at Semi from the corner of his eyes. He scrunched his nose when he found Semi naked, turning to the mirror in front of him. “I will. Have you had dinner yet?”

From the softness of his tone, one would think he was talking to his sweetheart but Semi knew by now that this was not the case. Who in their right minds would want Shirabu anyway? No, the person on the other end of the line was Shirabu senior, the only person in the universe who could ever make Shirabu sound like he had a heart.

Semi didn’t want to intrude on their conversation but he also didn’t want to walk around the compound naked so he silently put on his clothes. Shirabu’s call reminded him that he should make calls of his own too. It had been too long and his sister had been messaging him about planning Semi’s funeral because he ignored her calls so much. At any minute, she could rock up again and demand to see him. 

When Shirabu ended the call, Semi asked, “How is he?”

“He’s fine.”

“Are you going to visit him again soon?”

“After the mission.” A moment later, he added, “He’s started working again.” He offered more information willingly when it came to his dad.

“That’s good, right?”

Shirabu pursed his lips. He pulled on his shirt as he answered, “I guess.”

Shirabu Hiroshi was the first ever patient to receive Shirabu’s state of the art prosthetics, Semi knew that much. As such, Hiroshi was subject to more malfunctions than anyone else and required adjustments every so often. Obviously for someone as uptight and perfectionistic as Shirabu, that would grate on him and add in the fact that this was his own father, well. Shirabu was just never happy with anything, not even the fact that his dad was well enough to get back into the workforce again because of him.

“I’ll see you in the common room,” Shirabu said abruptly, gathering all his things into his arms and marching right out.

Trying to be nice to Shirabu was like plucking out leg hair one by one; tedious and painful.

In the common room, a game was well underway, Goshiki laughing in glee when he managed to slap Ushijima’s card down before him. In turn, Reon flipped one of Goshiki’s cards over and the pilot’s laughter turned to wails as everyone _oohed_. Reon himself only had one card left in front of him and judging from his face, it was a winning card. Reon was a great, gentle man until the cards came out. Then it became clear why people feared and admired him so much.

When Semi came into the room, Tendou suggested, “Let’s play strip bullshit next round.”

Semi shrugged. “Sure.”

Looks passed around the small table they gathered at before they shrugged too, with the exception of Goshiki.

“Aww,” he said. “I don’t want to strip.”

“Then don’t get caught,” Shirabu deadpanned. 

“But I suck at lying,” Goshiki muttered.

Shirabu looked like he could not have cared less.

Semi wanted to smack him upside the head and tell him to be nicer to Goshiki, and everyone else too while he’s at it.

He squeezed himself in between Taichi and Yamagata as the game began. The table was too small for eight fully grown men to be playing around but that made cheating easier and the game more fun. They played with two decks of cards to make life harder and thus, clothes slowly started to come off, one by one with every lie caught and every wrong callout.

There were damned good liars among them, particularly Tendou and Taichi whose faces gave nothing away. Goshiki’s tell was swallowing right after he lied, Ushijima’s right eyebrow twitched, Reon’s eyes glanced to the left – but Reon knew his own tell and exploited the hell out of that. Semi liked to think he was harder to read but apparently he was not.

“Bullshit,” Shirabu called, and almost every single time, he’d get it right.

Now, he reached to the pile in the centre and flipped over the last two cards, a king and a ten. He smirked when everyone hooted and Semi glared at him as his pants came off next. He was down to his boxers now and the next fuck up would earn him a flick on the head. (Yamagata called them all cowards for drawing the line at underwear but Washijou had once walked into them all sitting in the common room naked and that was not an experience most wanted to repeat.)

The only upside to this situation was that Shirabu’s tick was easy to figure out; a tiny twitch of his nose.

At his turn, Shirabu put down three cards, saying, “Three of eights.”

Goshiki had already started to say something when Semi slammed his hand on the table and yelled, “Bullshit!”

“Whoa, calm down,” Reon said.

Semi flipped the three cards over and sure enough, only two were eights and the other was an ace. “Ha!”

Shirabu glowered. He was in his boxers already so Semi beckoned him over, gleefully reaching across the table. Shirabu huffed as he leaned in.

“Your hair,” Semi said.

Shirabu pushed his fringe up, forehead red from being flicked twice before. Semi flexed his fingers before giving his best flick that had Shirabu squeezing his eyes shut, flinching. It felt satisfying as fuck. When they both settled back into their seats, everyone was looking between the two of them. Tendou cleared his throat too loudly to be unintentional.

“It’s a forehead flick,” Yamagata began carefully. “It did not need that much sexual tension.” He turned to everyone else. “Right?”

Goshiki choked. Ushijima nodded sagely. The rest looked exhausted. Semi was confused. He glanced at Shirabu whose face was blank.

Tendou rubbed the scruff on his chin. “You know what you two need?”

“What?” Semi said warily.

“Fuck each other’s brains out and get it out of your system.”

“ _What?_ ” hissed Semi.

“Dude,” said Reon.

“Tendou-san,” whimpered Goshiki.

“Satori,” warned Ushijima.

Tendou threw his hands into the air. “We’re all thinking it! Why, Wakatoshi-kun, you even agreed with me last week.”

Ushijima’s betrayal aside, Semi spluttered, “I’m not going to fuck him, Satori. That’s absurd. Look at him!”

He gestured at Shirabu who sat there with nothing but boxers and a dogtag on his pale, skinny body. Well, he wasn’t _skinny_ but his muscles were lean and that was not Semi’s type at all.

The sentiment went unappreciated as Shirabu sneered. “And I fear losing my IQ if I associate with Semi-san like that.”

Which, quite frankly, was more insulting than what Semi said. His fiery glare met Shirabu’s stone-cold bitch face.

“Oookay,” Reon sang. “That’s enough bullshit for today.”

It was difficult to decipher whether he meant the game or Semi and Shirabu. He gathered up the cards quickly while everyone started to stretch and put their clothes back on, eager to put this awkward conversation behind them. Or at least, Semi was.

Whatever he felt towards Shirabu was not like that. No, if anything, Semi wanted to strangle him. Semi watched as Shirabu padded out of the room without a glance back. Yep. Definitely strangle.

~

The next mission was in Nagano. That meant a lot more to some people than others on the team. Ushijima’s father had been part of the old Shiratorizawa Unit that fell seven years ago. Their last mission was in the mountains of Nagano. Six agents went in and finally succeeded in bringing down the armed insurgency that had plagued the country for half a decade; three came out alive, one body recovered, another MIA and the other defecting to what remained of the enemy, subsequently going into hiding. The defector was Utsui Takashi, Ushijima’s father and one of the most decorated soldiers of his generation.

Nineteen at the time, Ushijima was already a sergeant in the military and on his way to quickly climb the ranks. His father’s defection came out of nowhere and cut his paths short, trust in him lost. His mother changed his family name from Utsui to Ushijima but the stories did not change. Semi had a strong feeling that Ushijima asked to be in Shiratorizawa because of his father, and Washijou trusted him enough to agree.

Now in Nagano, everyone was tense even though this was only an aiding mission to a rebel group that had managed to hold down their own fort. The ride in their cargo ship was quiet, save for Tendou’s humming. They were crossing so much enemy territory and Taichi didn’t have complete faith in the cloaking device he and Reon had managed to make for the ship.

Nonetheless, they made it there in one piece, landing next to a steep mountain face obscured by tall trees. Ushijima stood at the top of the ship’s open ramp, gazing at the dense forest that stretched out in front of them. It was among trees like this that his father chose the enemy and Ushijima would never see him again. He did not understand why.

Tendou joined him, a gentle hand on Ushijima’s shoulder in silent empathy.

From a narrow opening in the slope of earth, a middle-aged woman with shockingly white hair came out to welcome them, flanked by a younger man with the type of goatee Tendou wanted but couldn’t have, and another dude with hair as white as the woman’s and barely much taller than her.

Introductions passed around and Semi learnt that the woman was Hoshiumi, the leader of the rebels. The younger, male version of her was her son and the other man was Hirugami Fukuro. Ushijima and Tendou were left to assess the conflict situation in the area as the rest of the team unloaded the cargo from the ship, transferring crates of resources onto a trolley. Later, a few other people from the rebel group came out to help.

“So you guys are from Miyagi?” asked a tall guy with really nice hair the colour of milk chocolate.

As second in command in the field, Semi answered on their behalf, “We are.”

“I heard the entire prefecture is free,” he said, heaving a crate onto a trolley. Closer up, Semi saw that his eyes were also the colour of milk chocolate, much like the man with the goatee from before. But this one was decisively younger and goatee-less.

“I guess free is relative,” Semi said. “We have the Dateko forces along our border as stronghold that’s keeping out most people we don’t want so we’re free like that.”

But the prefecture was far from running normally, everyone contributing to the war efforts in some way. Farms to provide food that could no longer be imported. Factories to melt down parts and make more weapons. Young men and women signing up for the military to fight. The economy had crashed a long time ago but there was nothing to be done about that right now without giving up the prefecture to the enemy.

“We really appreciate the help,” the guy said.

“It’s the least we can do,” Semi said. He slapped a nearby crate. “There are food, blankets and medicine here but we weren’t able to spare much weaponry.”

“Don’t worry about that,” said someone else. Male Hoshiumi had appeared on the ramp of the ship, marching up with no small amount of authority, holding his chin high and shoulders squared. “We’ve stolen a ton from garrisons around here. We just need medicine more.”

Something about this dude reminded Semi of another short guy he once knew, with flaming hair instead of snow white.

“Kourai-kun,” Milk Chocolate said with a lazy grin in the newcomer’s way. “Nice of you to help out.”

“Had to make sure those guys back there weren’t gonna trick us,” Kourai said. 

Semi shared a look with Yamagata, then with Taichi. Goshiki made a disgruntled face.

“Heard there’s a doctor among you guys,” Kourai continued as if he hadn’t just insulted them. “We have some injured people.”

Shirabu stepped up, apparently not taking any ounce of offense at all. “Lead the way.”

Milk Chocolate was the one who beckoned for Shirabu to follow, leaving Kourai with them instead. But thankfully, Kourai refrained from blunt remarks this time. They efficiently transferred all the crates and rolled them into the opening of the mountain face.

The inside was exactly what Semi had expected of a rebel fighting team. The entire cavern was lit by strategically placed solar lights and a row of makeshift bedding lined one side, guns and weapons lying here and there. But there were far more people than Semi had expected, most of them peering at the newcomers in part curiosity and part weariness, some lying in beds from injuries. A few had particularly nasty looking wounds.

In one corner, Ushijima and Tendou gathered around with Hoshiumi-san and Hirugami, deep in discussion as Tendou pointed at things across a holographic projection of a map. Semi thought to join them but decided that he might not have been welcome, seeing as no one from the rebels had approached the group either. So he stuck to the crates, opening them one by one as Kourai took inventory and started to work out rations.

Shirabu approached him, then walked right past him to the open crates.

“Where are the first aid kits?” he asked.

It took Semi a moment to realise that he was being addressed.

“How should I know?” he answered but joined in helping Shirabu locate them anyway, having nothing better to do.

It was one of the rebels who found the crates of medicine supply. Shirabu picked up one crate and then looked at Semi like he was expecting him to pick up another one and follow. Semi stared back for a moment because like hell, he was going to stand this rude little jerk. But Shirabu stared back and in the end, Semi grounded his jaw, picked up a crate and followed.

Shirabu headed back to where Milk Chocolate sat beside a man lying on his stomach, shirt hitched up to his shoulders to reveal a giant gash down one side of his back. It was stitched but the area was red and purple and full of pus and Semi did not like that. He gingerly placed the crates next to the one Shirabu brought, letting him dig through it to his heart’s content.

“Squeamish?” Milk Chocolate asked when he saw Semi’s face. “I thought you’re the resident knife ninja, according to Shirabu.”

Something about Shirabu’s expression told him that he did not call him a ninja.

“I’m cool with making cuts,” Semi said. “The healing process is more gruesome.”

To which Shirabu replied, “Just admit you’re a barbarian, Semi-san.”

“I’m cool with cutting you too, Shirabu.”

There was no response to dignify that as Shirabu found what he was looking for – a small box – and turned back to the injured man. Hirugami raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of them in amusement, which Semi chose to ignore.

“The stitching has good technique,” Shirabu remarked, sounding impressed for once.

“Thanks. I used to be a vet so I’m used to sutures, just not on humans. I couldn’t help the infection though, not in a place like this.”

Just to prove something that Semi couldn’t name, he stayed to watch as Shirabu began to clean around the area, stomach churning. Shirabu talked Hirugami through medications and procedures that Semi understood a bare minimum of, more engrossed by how fast Shirabu actually worked. It would be hypnotic to watch if it didn’t make his breakfast crawl up his throat. Semi had never seen Shirabu put his med degree to use before and watching him now evoked some sense of admiration that Semi crushed immediately. 

For some ridiculous reasons, it reminded him of what Tendou said last night. _Fuck each other’s brains out._

Semi turned and walked off.

“Had enough?” Shirabu called after him.

He replied with a middle finger.

The team left early in the evening before last light after Ushijima and Tendou drew up attack plans. Washijou had been trying to reunite separate rebel factions from across the country to eventually mount a wide-scale synchronised attack and stretch enemy forces thin. This was but a first successful stepping stone. Rebel gangs of Hyogo prefecture were next, if they could get into contact safely, and Yakuza families of Tokyo were also strong contenders, waging their own war against oppressors in the city.

From what Semi knew of the Nekoma-gumi kumicho, Nekomata Yasufumi, he would also be keen on that idea too, possibly bringing his own tactics to the table as well as a notorious gang behind him, perhaps two if Fukurodani-gumi joined forces.

Semi said as much on the ride back, the air significantly lighter than the trip in the morning. Shirabu’s eyes were on him the whole time as he explained and Semi realised that he was the only one who didn’t know.

“I used to be part of the Karasuno gang,” Semi said. “Our leader is good friends with Nekomata.”

“Is that where you learnt to fight dirty?”

“At least I didn’t learn it in prison.”

“Give it a rest, you two,” Ushijima interrupted. “We did great work today, especially you, Shirabu.”

Shirabu keened at the praise.

_Fuck each other’s brains out._

Semi turned his attention to Yamagata for the rest of the trip and focused on the story of how grandma Yamagata used to smack her grandchildren with her slippers when they got cheeky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! Kudos and comments are always very much appreciated.  
> You can yell at me on twitter [@casastella_](https://twitter.com/casastella_).


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say this in Commotion but forgot to mention this last chapter so I'll just say it now. This fic will centre around the conflict of war, but this will NOT be the focus. This work of fiction is not meant to glorify war or romanticise in any way. That is not my intention at all. 
> 
> (Also, this chapter is probably the most explicit thing I've ever written yet so pretty please go easy on me.)

As predicted, Semi Shiori turned up at the compound two days after the Nagano mission. She flounced her way through the guarded gates and right into the Shiratorizawa building, which was nothing more than gray slabs of concrete put together into a prism. And because Shiori knew how to utilise her cuteness, the guards let her in with minimal questioning every time. Semi greeted her in the common room with no surprise whatsoever.

“You know you can’t just stroll into this place,” he repeated despite the utter uselessness.

Shiori had already made herself at home on the beat couches like there was zero doubt that she belonged there. Someone had bothered to make her a cup of tea too - probably Reon.

She smiled at him sweetly. “If you answered my calls like a normal person, I wouldn’t be here.”

Semi made a face as he sat opposite her because they both knew she’d come anyway. He nodded at her hair and asked, “Did your boyfriend tell you green is your colour?”

“Actually I dyed it in commemoration of our breakup, which you would know if you checked my messages,” she said pointedly.

Semi did. He never met the boyfriend but Semi was certain he didn’t like him. He wasn’t an overprotective big brother by any means but it seemed like it was only yesterday that Shiori came crying to him about blood from places and Semi endured the most uncomfortable hour of his life. It didn’t matter that she was only two years younger than him.

“How’s everyone?” Semi asked.

Shiori shrugged, a gesture so familiar that it felt like Semi was back in their tiny home, sitting on opposite ends of their bed, talking in the middle of the night. She recounted about working out on the farms with their mum and younger siblings, about how the creaky step on the stair that had survived five children finally gave out and how Yuudai, their youngest brother, was starting to follow in their mum’s footsteps as he tinkered with machinery and tried to fix broken things.

Money was okay, she said, skirting around a particular topic. What Semi sent home was enough to keep the house running in a time like this when the majority were struggling. More than anything, this was what gave him the most relief.

“How’s life treating you here?” Shiori asked, spreading her arms on the back of the couch. “Any new injuries?”

“All the time. It’s part of the job description.”

Lips pursed, she scanned him from head to toe as if she could see them all.

Grinning, Semi said, “There’s a giant bruise on my back. Wanna see?” He started to turn around, ready to lift his tank top, but Shiori shrieked because squeamishness ran in the Semi family.

“Stop, no!” she said, holding her hands up in front of her. “Ma wants you to come visit when you can. She wanted to come with me today but…”

“But?”

Shiori’s face was similar to Semi’s. A strong jawline, defined nose and straight eyebrows. But where Semi’s face was often set into a frown by force of habit, Shiori’s was softer, sweeter. When something troubled her, it was plain as day across her features. Semi straightened.

Shiori sighed. “Grandpa isn’t well. He fell yesterday and Mum’s taking care of him now but she wants you to come see him.”

There was something else so Semi waited.

After a moment, she finally said, “ _He_ wants you to visit. He says he wants you home.”

“Home as in?”

“He said he wants you to quit.” Seeing Semi’s reaction, Shiori quickly said, “I know! I know, okay? We all do. Mum’s already taking care of that so don’t go being an ass to him. Grandpa is just getting old and saying stuff. You know that.”

“I can’t visit yet. I’ve got work scheduled all of this month,” Semi half lied.

“Nii-chan, come on,” Shiori said in exasperation. “You can spare two hours.”

“It’s not two hours. It’s more complicated for me to visit you than for you to come here. The out-pass application and paperwork are a lot of trouble.”

Shiori said nothing for a moment, staring at Semi with hooded eyes. “You’re not being fair to him.”

“So you’re on his side now?”

“There is no side! I’m just- Why are you being immature about this?”

Semi stood. “I don’t know, Shiori. Maybe because I’m incapable of getting my life in order? Maybe I need discipline? Or maybe I just like being a useless leech to society.” He knew his arguments made no sense now but he wouldn’t take them back, not when Shiori flinched in recognition of the words. “Take your pick but I’m not quitting and I’m not coming back yet.”

“Is everything okay here?” Shirabu’s voice came. He stood in the doorway, body half-turned as if he wasn’t sure whether to stay or leave, eyes shifting between Semi and Shiori.

“Everything is just peachy. What do you want?”

Shirabu’s jaw ticked. “Training. Cancelled for today?”

“Wait for me there.”

Shirabu gave a cold, lingering look before he walked away.

Semi turned back to his sister. “See? I’m busy.”

“He cares about you, Nii-chan.”

Semi rolled his eyes because he’d heard that a thousand times before. But every time Semi visited, he and his grandfather always ended up fighting over one thing or another. Yeah, Semi knew he was a fuck-up – that was made abundantly clear already. What was the point in being even more of a disappointment and make both of them equally miserable by showing up more often than he needed to?

Shiori sighed, getting onto her feet. “I guess you don’t care about him.”

“You know the way out.”

~

Shirabu had laid out the mats by the time Semi made it into the training room. Curious eyes followed him as he took off his shoes and socks, then stretched his body. Everything was wound tight, a spring forced to contract and one wrong move would unfurl all of that tension inside.

Shirabu did not ask a thing when Semi joined him on the mat.

“Let’s see your attacking,” Semi said.

Shirabu came at him, quick and merciless, the swing of his fist arching in front of Semi’s face. Semi dodged and countered but Shirabu kept up, blow meeting blocks, followed by counters of his own.

“Is that the best you can do?” Semi taunted, craving something that challenged him more.

Shirabu kicked, Semi let it hit his side, embraced the pain, and then used the momentum to drive the length of his arm into Shirabu’s stomach. He stumbled, panting. Sweat rolled down his temple.

“Who is she?” he asked finally.

“Sister.”

“You should visit your family.”

“That’s none of your business. Stop talking, start attacking.”

But Shirabu said, “Maybe she’s right.”

Semi was already teetering on the edge at the moment and his attacks were less coordinated but more powerful. Before he knew it, a punch landed square on Shirabu’s arm, which would’ve been his face if he hadn’t blocked in time.

Shirabu swore in pain, holding his arm.

“I said stop talking.”

When Shirabu looked up, fire raged in his eyes. He held nothing back when he leapt at Semi again, finally making Semi work for it. But this was not their usual fights where the feral aggression was masked behind contained, practiced spars and grapples. This was untamed, lips bared, claws grabbing what they could, elbows driven into ribs and choke holds that lasted until Semi’s vision fizzled and he let it. He let it drive them both to the ground where he wrestled his way out and pounced on Shirabu instead, holding his wrists to the mat, breaths heavy between them but it was not enough.

“Don’t say shit you don’t understand,” he growled.

Shirabu spat, “I understand you’re a selfish jerk.”

“You know _nothing_ about me.”

Shirabu laughed darkly, trying to twist his hands out but Semi only tightened his hold. “I know you’re scared of your grandfather. That’s why you refuse to see him.”

“Shut your mouth, Shirabu.”

Shirabu did not. Instead, he opened his mouth again to throw more insults, only for his eyes to widen in surprise and then narrow into a glare. “Get off me.”

Semi had braced himself to face whatever jibe Shirabu threw at him so the deflection threw him off guard. “What?”

More urgently, “Get off me.”

“Then try to-”

“Semi-san.”

Semi paused, looking down at Shirabu’s serious face, mildly panicked. He gathered his senses enough to finally realise what was happening right now. He was hard. And so was Shirabu, their lengths pressing against each other between them.

Semi scrambled up, resting on his haunches uncomfortably.

Shirabu sat, drawing his knees up, staring at the far corner of the room. “I’m done,” he declared.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

No more words were said. They silently wiped the mats down and stacked them in the corner Shirabu was staring at, pointedly ignoring each other and what was happening in their pants.

When Shirabu went off to the bathrooms, Semi trudged to his own room. Even with the door locked, he refused to touch himself. This was but a minor discipline issue with his dick, which – as the saying went – had a mind of its own. It didn’t mean anything, and it specifically didn’t have anything to do with what Tendou said either. At all.

~

They shot Goshiki from the sky.

Semi was packing his bags when the alarms blared across the compound, red lights flashing on the walls. He dropped everything to sprint to the war room, nearly crashing into Tendou in the halls. Semi could count on one hand the number of times the alarm rang in the compound and none had ever been a minor issue, as he would find out.

Goshiki had been taking a newly-equipped plane for a trial run over the test fields, Reon and Taichi in control centre, when a missile from the ground struck his left wing. The plane went down in a plume of smoke and fire, and Goshiki, slower, in a parachute but promptly lost radio contact after what sounded like a gunshot.

The military had known about enemy infiltration into their territory for months now. Protecting the entire border of the prefecture was like cusping a hand over a hole in a water tank; some would inevitably seep through. Every mission to search and eradicate the threat had been unsuccessful and now they were paying the price for it.

A fierce determination rippled around the room in unison as a rescue mission was drawn up.

Semi made the mistake of looking at Shirabu, calm as ever, and felt his blood boil because Shirabu never cared about anything that wasn’t his father. He wouldn’t have given a shit about this team if Washijou hadn’t pulled him out of prison and given his father compensation. Shirabu turned suddenly, meeting Semi’s eyes and Semi looked away, face alight. This wasn’t about Shirabu, he told himself.

In the six months that the team had been operating, no one had ever been separated and held captive before. But Reon. Reon knew first-hand. Ushijima told him to sit out from monitoring for this but Reon was not someone who’d abandon his team like that, not even at his own expense.

His only quiet warning was, “Keep an eye on Taichi.”

Semi turned to see Taichi across the armoury, as livid as he had ever been. His jaw was clenched and he put on his tac gear faster than ever, armed to the teeth. He hauled supplies out of the room, impatient with everyone else’s pace they all tried hard to maintain normalcy to keep themselves calm.

Semi did keep one eye on him at all times, as did Ushijima and Tendou. But there was a point when, after they found the enemy camp, the fight began and Semi lost track of Taichi as he struggled to evade gunfire and a grenade went off to his right, Tendou swearing viciously and returned explosives of his own. Semi took commotion as a chance to charge at them to pay back these fuckers for messing with one of them.

That was all it took for Taichi to disappear. When Semi finally realised, the enemy had already surrendered and Taichi came out of the far tents, bleeding from his mouth and his shoulder, drenching his whole arm red.

“He’s not here,” he rasped before he flopped to the ground and Shirabu was by his side in an instant.

A moment later, he turned to the rest of them and said, “Missed the arteries but needs emergency care.”

It didn’t _look_ like it missed arteries but Semi wasn’t the doctor here. Yamagata and Shirabu hauled off Taichi to the car, the latter resisting despite barely keeping himself conscious out of sheer will and stubbornness.

One long interrogation with the captured enemy and two extra dead bodies later, they learnt that Goshiki was not yet found. The search continued to nightfall, joined by a platoon of cadets who fanned out the forest area but it wasn’t until Reon received a transmission that they could locate Goshiki beneath an outcropping of rocks by a stream, hidden from view by a thick bush, his leg bandaged with the sleeves of his own camo. Not a bullet wound, but a deep cut from a sharp rock.

They’d had missions that were shitshows, lucky to get out with all their limbs attached, and near-death experiences were common in their line of work. Hell, Semi had forgotten how many times he’d courted death in his life but today was different. Today, two of them could have died, two of Semi’s family.

The mission had gone awry in every way possible, even before they set foot off the compound. They planned but without enough information. They charged head-on to the enemy who outnumbered them four-to-one, and disregarded the possibility that they might not even have Goshiki hostage. Then there was Taichi who usually relied on logic, completely abandoning that in favour of following impulses because Goshiki was in danger.

Taichi was okay now. He was transferred to the hospital and his condition was stable after surgery but his arm would need a decent amount of time to recover. Goshiki was okay too because he didn’t lose much blood but he might as well have when he heard what Taichi did.

Semi abused the punching bag until the dead of night. Inside the building, a sombre quiet had seized the air but lights still flashed outside, more soldiers on patrol. Washijou had taken the prisoners in for questioning and Semi desperately wanted to be there, but not to question.

He stopped at midnight, showered, and retired to his own room, only to find his abandoned, half-packed bag on his bed from the morning. He was going to visit his family. His approved out-pass expired half an hour ago but thank god. Thank god he hadn’t left. If he’d already left when this happened…

Semi kicked the bag to the floor and tried to sleep but to no avail. Exhaustion crackled in his bones, ached in his muscles but his brain relayed everything in vivid detail. Taichi’s terror beneath unusual fury, the realisation that he was gone, finding Goshiki curled between two boulders, clutching his earpiece in one hand, the relief on his face as they hobbled him onto a stretcher.

Semi dragged himself to the kitchen and dumped tea leaves and warm water into a mug, letting it brew. Shirabu appeared in the door then, in cargo pants and black shirt. He looked even more uptight than normal. He’d returned from the hospital two hours ago and Semi hadn’t seen him since. Which was fine. There was nothing for them to speak about. Not at all.

Semi grabbed his mug and turned, ready to leave but Shirabu had walked over in that time. He wasn’t coming towards Semi, but rather to the fridge which was next to Semi but it still made him jump. Warm water splashed onto his hand and he rushed to set the mug back down on the counter with a hiss.

“Watch it,” he barked. 

Shirabu had bags under his eyes, barely standing on his own two feet, swaying but he still glared up at Semi.

Something about that moment did it for him. Semi had wanted everything to be over but he knew sleep would not claim him tonight. He’d been looking for an alternative to rolling in bed, replaying everything that could’ve gone right but didn’t. In that moment, that alternative was a bratty medic with a knife for a tongue and looking at Semi like _he_ was the alternative too.

Semi kissed him. He pushed Shirabu against the humming fridge and kissed him hard enough to bruise and Shirabu grabbed at Semi’s hair, kissing back even more fiercely, teeth catching on lips, fingers tugging harshly.

God, Semi wanted to destroy him. And fuck him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tendou cackled but that shut down when Shirabu’s leg slid between his and Semi instinctively pressed his body even closer, feeling the growing bulge in Shirabu’s pants. Semi’s hand had sneaked his way beneath Shirabu’s shirt and splayed against his cool skin, travelling up the ridges of his ribs. A choked noise escaped Shirabu when Semi rolled a nipple between two fingers but made no move to stop devouring Semi.

Someone cleared their throat. From the hallway, Reon looked at them both warily as he said, “Take it to your own rooms, guys.” Then he walked off.

Semi and Shirabu shared one short look, lips glistening. They moved at once like a flipped switched when the message became clear. Neither were done. Not even close.

They ended up in Semi’s room, door locked, kicking aside the bag that had spilled its contents onto the floor.

Taking his pants and boxers off at the same time, Shirabu demanded, “Lube. Condoms.”

As if he expected Semi to have them on him. As if he expected Semi to just do what he was told. That shouldn’t have made him harder but it did.

Semi dug the bottle out of the bottom of his closet and threw it at him. Shirabu had made himself home on Semi’s small bed, kept the shirt on but his bare legs spread before him. Semi’s mouth dried at the sight of Shirabu pouring lube onto his fingers and pressing one into himself. He wasted no time at all, pumping in and out of himself efficiently, adding a second finger in no time.

“Condoms, Semi-san,” Shirabu repeated. “Sometime tonight.”

His voice was too steady in contrast to how tight Semi’s own throat felt.

“I,” he said, “am going to fuck some manners into you.”

Shirabu scoffed but his dick twitched at the words. Oh, he liked that. A smug vindication grew as Semi dug around his closet some more for the box of condoms he knew he had. He couldn’t find it fast enough, his dick already leaking from having Shirabu on his bed, fingering himself open, waiting for Semi.

When he finally found it, he threw one condom to Shirabu, smacking him in the face. “Put it on. I don’t want a mess.”

Shirabu glared but did it with one hand the same way he did everything; efficiently and almost robotically.

Semi lost his clothes on the way to the bed, rolling a condom onto himself, harder than he could ever remember being. Shirabu was three fingers in, knuckles deep, but slid them out as Semi kneeled on the foot of the bed.

“You take so damned long,” Shirabu muttered.

Semi gripped his ankles and yanked him further down the bed, then spread his legs even wider, settling in between. Shirabu’s eyes darkened as Semi lined himself up, throbbing with need.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I’ve been ready for- _shit!_ ”

Semi pushed in deeper, hands shaking around the back of Shirabu’s knees, holding himself steady. God, he hadn’t even done anything and he already knew this was going to kill him. “You were saying?”

Shirabu panted beneath him, adjusting. Then he folded his legs around Semi’s waist. “Move.”

Any other command, Semi would’ve retorted. But this one worked out well for his wavering restraint so he pulled out almost all the way and thrust. Shirabu was so hot and tight, breathing heavily around Semi’s cock but his face gave very little away. But it didn’t matter.

Semi thrust harder and faster, setting a pace he normally would not with anyone else but this was Shirabu. As much as Semi loathed to admit it, he’d wanted to do this for far too long and Shirabu seemed to share the sentiment as he closed his eyes, breath coming out in huffs over the squeak of the bed with each thrust, his hands knotted in Semi’s sheets.

Semi wasn’t going to last long, he knew that the moment Shirabu first choked at his touch in the kitchen. So he tried to even the playing field, pushing up Shirabu’s shirt but a sharp slap stopped him.

“Don’t.”

“You had no complaints about it before.”

“I’ll take care of it myself.”

Shirabu grabbed his own cock and bobbed his hand up and down over the condom. Semi’s whole body shook, holding his orgasm at bay because no way he’d let Shirabu outlast him, no matter how much he desperately needed to come. He fell on his hands beside Shirabu’s head, gritting his teeth. Their faces were too close now and Shirabu pointedly did not look at Semi so Semi hung his head, panting in exertion and closed his own eyes until he could no longer prolong the inevitable. He came with a final thrust, white bursting behind his eyelids. He did not move for a minute, could not.

When he came back to, he was still shaking and locked elbows were the only thing keeping him from dropping onto the body beneath him. He pulled out and forced himself up, finally seeing Shirabu’s flushed face. Semi opened his mouth to say _something_ in his defence but looking down, it wasn’t necessary.

“When?” he said instead.

Shirabu just raised an eyebrow, easing himself up to his elbows and then sitting up fully. “Didn’t even notice. Are you always this selfish?”

Still zero manners. Semi was too tired to fight so he let it go. They tied off the condoms and cleaned up in near silence, rustling of clothes the only sound. It felt like something should’ve changed between them, especially since this was the best sex Semi could remember in recent years. But nothing was different. Shirabu was still an ass and Semi still wanted to pound him against a wall.

He frowned at his dick which twitched again with interest. _No_ , he thought to it.

Shirabu left without another word or a second glance. Whatever.

Semi flopped onto his bed face first, into sheets that now smelled faintly like Shirabu. He’d have to wash them tomorrow – and hope to god that Yamagata, in the next room over, didn’t hear the bed’s screams of protest. Reon wouldn’t tell the others but Yamagata was a gossip. Semi couldn’t live with the embarrassment of his friends knowing he willingly slept with Shirabu.

The only upside of this whole thing was that Semi fell asleep quickly enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides*
> 
> But for real though, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please do let me know what you thought because your comments add years to my life. <3
> 
> Also, NINE DAYS TO SEMISHIRA WEEK!!!


	3. Chapter 3

A week later, Semi was sitting with Tendou at the kitchen isle, discussing progression of war efforts when Shirabu came in and conversation paused. He was in a white lab coat, a pair of glasses perched on top of his head. He met Semi’s eyes for all of one second before he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and walked out again. Semi watched all of this happen with his breath held, like if he released it, _something_ would happen.

They hadn’t talked about what transpired that night, starting in this very kitchen. But there were these looks from Shirabu when they passed each other. A threat to not be loose-lipped? An invitation for another round? Semi couldn’t figure it out. Their training sessions buzzed with stifling heat and he spent most of it telling his dick to behave.

“You know,” Tendou drawled, resting his chin on a fist, “I really thought you two boning each other would work but now it’s even worse.”

“We didn’t-”

“Eita-kun,” Tendou interrupted with a look and Semi shut up, opting to shove a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

Tendou continued, “You’re not even talking to each other anymore. Was it that bad?”

“It’s Shirabu,” Semi said as if that explained everything. “I’m not exactly proud of my temporary lapse in judgement.”

“That’s what I thought about Wakatoshi-kun at first.”

Semi paused. Then gaped. “Wakatoshi?”

Tendou guffawed wholeheartedly. “Semisemi, you’re so blind. We aren’t exactly trying to hide it, unlike you.”

“Wait, no. Back the hell up. Why is _Wakatoshi_ a lapse in judgement? He’s nothing like Shirabu. Wakatoshi is…pretty much perfect.”

Tendou sobered up, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes because apparently Semi’s cluelessness was his greatest source of entertainment. “That’s exactly why,” he said lightly. “Thought he was way better than me and, well. Life has a way of working things out. You just gotta ride that wave out to calmer waters.”

He made a wave motion with his arm.

Semi squinted at his friend and concluded that maybe Ushijima wasn’t as oblivious as he appeared or Tendou was just extremely loud in displaying his feelings. If the latter was the case then Semi had to wonder what else he was missing.

“Welp,” Tendou said, stretching his back. “I’m going to go find Wakatoshi-kun. Have fun wallowing in your pool of desire.”

“I am not-”

Tendou was cackling too loudly for Semi to keep protesting but he was absolutely not wallowing in a pool of desire nor was anything ‘worse’. There had been absolutely zero change in hostility and zero effort to talk, which was just fine by Semi. Sleeping with Shirabu was a mistake. They were both exhausted and frustrated and they took it out on each other (in a way that was somewhat healthier than beating the shit out of each other). It wasn’t going to happen again.

When he walked past the lab later, Semi peered inside the wide glass window. The lab was made up of a workbench along one wall and one at the front with various machines placed around the room. A few of those looked suspiciously like fridges and one had a glass cylinder full of green stuff on top of it.

Shirabu fiddled with something at the bench that faced the window. The object was obscured behind a field of parts littered across a large workbench and Shirabu glared at it like there was no tomorrow, even worse than when he glared at Semi. Then he banged the object on the table, jumping back when wires sparked, startling both of them. He looked up then, eyes meeting Semi’s across the glass. His face darkened even more when he stormed to the door and swung it open.

“Can I help you?” he snapped.

“I was going to ask if _you_ need help but fuck you.”

There was the briefest moment when the last two words lingered between them but it was gone as soon as Shirabu rolled his eyes.

“What would you know about anything?”

Maybe Tendou was right about this one too. It sounded worse, even to Semi.

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t go to med school with a scholarship at sixteen,” he gritted out. “And I hope you get electrocuted.”

He spun on his heels and left.

~

Washijou didn’t take long in breaking down the prisoners. He discovered that the camp of soldiers who shot down Goshiki was only one of many stationed right around the prefecture, ready to strike at command. More invaders had managed to pass into Miyagi than they originally anticipated, possibly via more Shinkansen tunnels.

Goshiki was cleared for fieldwork after two weeks but Taichi was still out of commission, still at the hospital. With no other trained soldiers to spare, Washijou decided to turn somewhere Semi was familiar with. The plan was always meant to involve them, only it was happening sooner.

Semi pushed open the door to the familiar bar, the place emptier than Semi had ever seen at this time of the evening. Though there had been no time to implement conscription regimes at the start of the war, a lot people took up arms when the country was in need. It dragged a lot of the patrons into the army and to the Iron Wall, leaving only a few people scattered around this place, watching reruns of old volleyball matches on holoprojections on the walls, talking quietly among each other as faint music played in the background. The bartender took one look at Semi and beamed.

“Eita!” said Sugawara Koushi, waving. “It’s been so long. What brings you back? Is the army not working out for you?”

Semi scoffed, exchanging a handshake that he was surprised he remembered. “A bit too well, actually.” He pointed to the two guys beside him. “Ushijima and Reon, my teammates.”

Suga’s sly eyes dragged up and down the two men – who were both jacked with muscles – and made an appreciative face. Ushijima was oblivious to that entire fiasco (or at least he pretended to be; Semi couldn’t be sure anymore) but Reon was not. He flushed and hunched in on himself like he was trying to disappear.

Semi sighed. Suga always was a bit of a mischief. God knew how many times Semi had found himself running like there was no tomorrow on Suga’s escapades when they were younger and Daichi would always yell at Semi instead because he was always sweet on the angel who used his halo as a hula hoop. He wondered how that fiasco was going, whether Daichi had actually made a move or not.

“We actually need to talk to Ukai-san,” Semi said. “Is he here yet?”

Suga peered at him curiously. “He’s been with Ukai-sensei for a few weeks. You’ll find both of them at Sakanoshita. But can I get you a drink before you go? On the house.”

Semi didn’t have intentions to stay but it was at that moment that Hinata appeared from the storeroom and all but jumped onto Semi in excitement, begging for a few minutes to catch up. Because Semi was weak to small things, he couldn’t refuse, shooting Ushijima and Reon a look in apology. Ushijima seemed to want the meeting over and done with but Reon shrugged with a smile. It wasn’t often that he was involved in group activities outside the compound so he enjoyed the time out.

A few minutes turned to an hour as Suga got on the phone and suddenly, Daichi and Asahi appeared. Semi would be lying if he said he was eager to leave. These guys were Semi’s team for nearly five years, all pimple-spotted teenagers when they first met. The things he did with them were…unsavoury, to put it mildly, and he didn’t always get along but they’d been through enough together for Semi to miss them occasionally.

When they finally made it to Sakanoshita Store, it was already late in the evening and even later when they arrived back at the compound but the task was a success, all in all. Ukai-sensei had a lot of questions but he would follow them all up directly with Washijou.

Freshly showered, Semi took the long route to his room, passing by Shirabu’s lab. He was still inside despite the late hour, lab coat thrown haphazardly over the back of a chair, glasses perched on his nose as he glared at something on the hologram in front of him.

Semi should just leave him alone, especially when he looked like _that_. It would be exactly like prodding beehive. But he found himself nudging the door open with his foot.

“Go to bed,” he said.

Shirabu spared him one single glance as he deadpanned, “Yes, Dad.”

Semi marched off.

He lied in bed and, just to take his mind off the brat, he started to reply to messages from Shiori about fixing the leaking roof and how their brother Kenta was utterly useless so she and their mum, a nearly sixty-year-old woman, had to climb a two-storey house.

Then the door opened. And closed.

Shirabu stood there with his arms crossed, wearing both his coat and his glasses as if Semi requested a home visit from a doctor. An angry visit.

“What?”

“The other night,” Shirabu started. He didn’t continue.

Semi ignored an incoming message and put his phone down, rising to his elbows. “Yeah?”

For a moment it seemed like Shirabu wasn’t going to speak. He just stood there, lips pursed, bathed in shadows and low orange light from the lamp, the scar on his chin silvery. Whatever this was, it was hurting his pride to even be in this room.

Semi tried not to be smug, in case Shirabu decided this wasn’t worth it. “What about it, Shirabu?”

“You had your fun. I want mine.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

God, why the fuck was Semi getting hard from this? It couldn’t have been normal that he was suddenly throwing his blankets off and standing up to open the drawers of the bedside table where he’d relocated the condoms and lube. He chucked both onto the bed. When he turned around, Shirabu was naked, save for the dogtag around his neck.

_Wow. Okay then._

“You really don’t mess around, do you?” he said as he peeled off his own shirt and boxers.

“I don’t like wasting time.”

“What if I tell you you’re wasting my time?”

Shirabu pointedly looked Semi’s half-hard cock, then shrugged. He picked his clothes up. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“No, stop!” _Ahh, fuck._ Shirabu’s smirk was so not worth it. “Just get on the bed.”

True to his words, Shirabu did not waste time today either. He crawled onto the bed, uncapping the bottle, squeezed lube onto his fingers and started to prepare himself. Semi had been under the impression it was _his_ turn, judging by what Shirabu said. But no. He’d taken up a good portion of the bed, starting to slide one fingers in and out of himself. Semi breathed deeply.

“Let me.”

He’d gotten on the bed and pulled Shirabu’s knees apart when a foot pressed against his chest. And kicked him to the end of the bed, nearly toppling off had he not grabbed onto said foot.

“What the fuck, Shirabu!”

“I’ll do this part myself.”

“What am I supposed to do then?”

Shirabu looked at him straight in the eyes as he said, “Watch.”

Semi’s heart leapt into this throat and his dick throbbed. He’d survived years of fighting in front lines and this – fucking a shitty-haired doctor with major control issues – was going to be his undoing.

Without breathing, Semi watched as one of Shirabu’s fingers became two, pink rim stretching around the intrusion. Shirabu did not look away from Semi at all. He knew exactly what he was doing when he let out a little sigh as he buried three fingers knuckles deep, still working with terrifying efficiency that would, probably, not feel that great.

Semi nudged closer, placing hand on Shirabu’s ankle and sliding up pale calves that tensed beneath his touch. He trailed his fingers higher, along the inside of his thigh, trying to take in even the most miniscule change in Shirabu’s expression. No change, but his fingers stopped moving inside him. Then he pushed Semi’s hand away with his other foot.

“I said it’s my turn to have fun.”

Semi retracted his hand but frowned. “What does ‘fun’ even mean to you?”

Shirabu shot up suddenly. He shook out two condoms from the box, put one on himself, throwing the other at Semi who rolled it on quickly. Then, without warning, he pushed Semi onto his back.

“This okay?” Shirabu asked.

“Yes,” Semi rasped. _Hell yes._

He watched as Shirabu poured more lube onto his hands and grabbed Semi’s cock, the cold making him jump. Shirabu gave three jerks that had Semi suddenly forgetting how breathing worked, before swinging his leg over Semi’s body to straddle him. He didn’t spare a single moment to collect thoughts before positioned himself and sank down.

Then Shirabu was sitting on him, peering down his nose. His glasses were still on his face. There must’ve been something wrong with Semi’s brain to find this unreasonably arousing. He couldn’t even hold a civil conversation with the guy but having him in his bed, screwing him? Apparently that was fine.

And apparently it was extra fine when Shirabu started moving his hips, a small rotation to test. Then he rose slowly and dropped slowly, clenching. Semi refused to make a sound, no matter how desperately a groan clawed up his throat because _holy shit_. Fucking Shirabu was good. Letting him fuck himself on Semi’s dick was even better.

Shirabu set a pace that he wanted, slightly slower than Semi normally would. His hands itched to do something because doing nothing felt like giving complete control over to Shirabu and Semi did not like that. He tried to place his hands on Shirabu’s hips, only to have them be pinned by his head instead. Shirabu stared down darkly, fringe in disarray with movement. If this was the training room, Semi would do whatever he needed to gain back the upper hand. This time, he let himself be satisfied with balling his hands into fists.

“Why are you so prickly about me touching you?” he asked.

Shirabu said, “It distracts me from my goal.”

“Which is?”

“To come.”

“How the hell…”

Shirabu did not reply. Unable to do much else, Semi resorted to only rolling his hips in rhythm and Shirabu let him.

Like last time, his expressions gave very little away save for the occasional intake of breath when he found the right spot, lingering for a little bit before resuming, chasing his release in a very roundabout way that Semi could not understand. Even as he came, he only closed his eyes, legs tensing around Semi’s waist like vices and that was Semi’s own tipping point.

Shirabu got off, kneeling on the bed. He tied the condom and threw it into the trash can across the room with perfect aim. Semi did not trust himself to do that so he walked over there, grabbing a tissue box from the desk on the way back. Shirabu was still kneeling, looking like he regretted everything. Semi flopped back onto the bed, leaving the tissue box between them.

“What now?” he asked.

Shirabu turned to him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t know if you noticed but we fucked. Twice now. Is this going to become a regular thing or…”

Shirabu stared at the tissue box for a minute. “I don’t think I can have sex with you when I’m in the right state of mind.”

Semi prayed to anyone who’d listen for the strength to not strangle this jerk. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a grade-A asshole?”

Shirabu glared. “I mean, I want to do this again when I’m stressed. If you want.”

The monkey part of Semi’s brain went, _Yes, please_ , while the more rational part of him reasoned, _He’s using you as stress-relief._ But the flaw in that logic was, Semi would also be using Shirabu as stress relief. Or something like that.

“No strings attached?” Semi said.

“Sure.”

“We’re gonna use your condoms and lube next time. This shit is expensive.”

Shirabu rolled his eyes. He slid off the bed and put his clothes on piece by piece. When only the lab coat was left, he turned back to Semi.

“One thing,” he said. “No kissing.”

Semi raised an eyebrow. “Last time-”

“No more.”

He shrugged. “All right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for sticking around, I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter! 
> 
> Because it's Semishira week starting in couple of days and I'm starting exam season, I'm going to put this fic on hiatus for a couple of weeks. But when I do come back, I'm going to post the rest of the fic at once and probably the next fic in the series too (which, I'm halfway through drafting). 
> 
> In the meantime, I have 4 fics written for Semishira week so look out for those too! I will also post art so if you want to see my amateur skills, you will find them on twitter [@casastella_](https://twitter.com/casastella_) or instagram [@casastella_art](https://www.instagram.com/casastella_art/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good pacing? I don't know her. 
> 
> But just a gentle disclaimer again: the author does not approve of all things that happen in this fic.

Things got better, relatively.

Washijou ordered a full sweep of all areas of known rebel camps with the help of the Karasuno gang, who were few in number but rivalled the Tokyo Yakuza in ferocity, as well as the Seijoh Syndicate who had been running their own covert operations at prefecture borders with an admirable degree of success. Semi had heard of them but Washijou had dismissed them entirely in the past so the groups had remained separate. Now, they were all forced to come together.

It was an interesting affair. Oikawa Tooru, ex-military and leader of Seijoh, had _something_ going on with Ushijima and that was something Semi did not want to stick his nose into. Tendou was all over it though, literally draped himself around the issue and stirred the pot. Never in Semi’s life did he think he would ever see Tendou jealous.

Taichi was dismissed from hospital a couple of weeks after the operation began but he was still not cleared for fieldwork so he remained at control with Reon for subsequent missions. His expertise was not needed for now anyway, not in the Sendai forests.

Shirabu got better too, Semi had to admit. He’d reached a point where Semi considered him satisfactory to be out on the battlefield but maybe Semi was just been prejudiced in that regard. (In which case, was it bad that sleeping with him was what made Semi change his mind?) Shirabu was perfectly capable of holding his own now and there was zero hesitation when he pulled the trigger or threw a grenade. Everything was terrifyingly uptight with him, as if he left himself no room for flexibility, every move calculated down to the millisecond.

Semi laid on the bed, catching his breath as Shirabu pulled his clothes on, fingers buttoning quickly. Those fingers had been inside himself a while ago because he still insisted on preparing himself. It was faster, apparently.

Semi would ask about it, but he didn’t really care. Sure, he wanted to touch sometimes and see what reactions he could drag out of Shirabu but the deal was for stress relief. And there was plenty of relief happening when Semi fucked him into oblivion or Shirabu got himself off, which was plenty hot too.

“Can you please leave?” Shirabu said.

Semi remembered that this was not his room. His room always had things on the floor that did not belong there, wooden figurines and chippings on his desk, and pictures of his family on rotation at the photo-projector on the wall. This room had a stack of books on the desk and nothing on the floor.

He heaved himself up because this had been part of the deal for the past few weeks. No matter how bone tired from earlier missions, no matter how late in the night, there would be no sharing for longer than five minutes afterwards. The ‘take what you want and leave’ policy was fine. Semi usually slept like the dead after it anyway. There was something very cathartic about making Shirabu shut up for a few minutes. It wasn’t an easy business.

Neither mentioned it the next day.

Yamagata, on the other hand, had plenty to say. “I swear to God,” he started, which was never good because he was an adamant atheist and would always argue against the existence of higher powers if given the chance. “I can still hear you guys from Shirabu’s room.”

“You cannot,” Semi said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s literally five rooms away from you. Even Taichi can’t hear anything and he lives next to Shirabu.”

Reon made a noise and a face. “I don’t think Taichi is ever actually _in_ his room.”

He did not explain further.

They sat around the coffee table in the common room, playing a lazy game of poker. They all pretended to not be into it but none of them would hesitate to bleed the others dry.

“That’s not the point,” Semi said, turning the conversation back on track. “If you hear anything at all, then it’s the beds. They squeal like pigs.”

Yamagata just looked at him, unimpressed. “I can still hear you in my head, Eita. It’s not pleasant.”

“Well, what do you want me to do! You’re the one who said we had sexual tension or whatever.”

“Yeah, you did say that,” Reon agreed, eyeing his cards and the cards in the centre. In hindsight, playing poker with only three people wasn’t a good idea.

Yamagata muttered, “I didn’t mean for them to traumatise the rest of us.”

Semi looked at his cards and realised he was not winning this, just like he was not winning this conversation about his sex life. It was ten o’clock and he’d already lost a thousand yen so he folded and left the game, resisting both Reon and Yamagata’s attempts to pull him into another round.

He took the long route to his room, passing by the lab. As expected, Shirabu was still inside, coat on, glasses on, lifting a small spherical thing up to the light. The door was open so Semi took a spot there.

“Do you ever stop frowning?” he asked.

Shirabu’s head snapped his way, looking about ready to bark something. But he decided against it at the last minute and put the ball on the table. “I would stop frowning if this would just work.”

Semi had never been interested in anything in this lab but he found himself inching into the room, looking around for a cadaver or something equally creepy. There were none, for once. “What are you doing?”

“Making an eye.”

Well, that was creepy. He trudged further into the room, eyeing the strewn bits of wires, metal parts and circuits across the table. He half expected Shirabu to tell him to leave but Shirabu only watched warily as Semi came in like everything was about to attack him.

“What’s going wrong?” Semi asked, but did not expect Shirabu to actually reply like a decent person.

“I can’t integrate the nerves with the cybernetics. I’ve figured out how to smooth the attachments for limbs but whatever I do for the eyes, it goes wrong. Even Taichi can’t figure out what’s wrong with the coding.”

“Ask someone else then. Don’t scientists usually work in teams?”

Shirabu frowned, first at Semi, and then around the room. “I don’t have the license.”

“For what? Working with other people?”

“I was in prison, Semi-san. I had my medical and research license revoked for unapproved experimentation and theft of government property.”

Semi blinked because that was a lot of information Shirabu was suddenly throwing at him. He’d actually forgotten that Shirabu was in prison. “Experimentation on what? Humans? Holy shit, Shirabu. What did you do?”

Now Shirabu was annoyed, looking like he was two seconds away from throwing Semi onto the table and experimenting on him. “I stole prototypes that _I_ made and gave them to my dad.”

“Oh.”

“Washijou-san managed to get me this lab only because we’re a black ops team and they desperately need me to actually keep improving this tech so they can fix injured soldiers and send them out again. Except I can’t get this fucking eye to work.”

“Have you considered maybe taking a break?”

“There is no break.” Shirabu leaned onto his hands at the table’s edge with white-knuckled grip and glared at the eye but this wasn’t the type of glare he threw at Semi when their sparring got dirty. This was loaded, shoulders tense, as if this one eye was his lifeline. Semi had never seen this before. He didn’t know how to handle this Shirabu, volatile and unpredictable.

Lowering his voice, he tried, “Come to my room?”

Shirabu turned on him, searching Semi’s face and then scoffed. “No, thank you.”

“Why not? Seemed to work last time.”

_Now_ Shirabu snapped, “It didn’t! I constantly have people breathing down my neck for me to pull things out of my ass that an entire team of so called ‘scientists’ couldn’t in the eight months that they left me to rot in a hellhole. They don’t disappear just because we fuck, Semi-san.”

“Well, do they disappear because you overwork yourself?”

“There is no work happening!”

“And there won’t be if you keep doing this.” Semi grabbed the eye and shoved it into his pocket. “You can have this again tomorrow.”

“Give it back.”

Semi turned and walked out of the room, waiting for a tackle from behind but it never came. Shirabu let Semi stroll out with the very thing that might have actually been his lifeline. Judging by Shirabu’s reactions, Semi expected a scream of frustration to follow into the hallway but only his footsteps echoed in the quiet night.

Semi placed the eye on the desk in his room before settling into bed. From where he laid, he had perfect view of the thing sitting there in the semi-darkness, parts of it glowing green. It felt as if at any moment, Shirabu would come barging in and either snatch the eye back or jump Semi’s bones or punch him in the liver again. Or all three. A few minutes passed by and none of those happened so Semi was forced to face the fact that Shirabu was too proud to give in.

He slept in disappointment.

At breakfast the next morning, Shirabu trudged into the kitchen and stood in front of Semi who was waiting for the kettle to finish boiling. Considering his distinctly smaller eyebags, it seemed like Shirabu actually slept last night.

“Yes?” Semi said.

“Give it back now.”

“Are you stable?”

“Enough to not kill you.”

“It’s in my room.”

Shirabu marched out.

Everyone else had paused for a second to observe.

Tendou was first to ask, “What was that about?”

“I confiscated something to make him sleep.”

Another long pause in which everyone shared a look.

“No,” Semi said. “Not like that. He was just about to burn down the compound because he couldn’t do something with a robot eye so I made him take a break.”

“Shirabu wouldn’t burn down the compound,” Ushijima said from where he sat at the counter, breakfast already finished. “He’s more responsible than that. But thanks for making him take a break, Eita.”

Semi truly understood why people preened with pride when Ushijima complimented them. It was hard not to when the guy was so serious and honest, and vocal appreciations in adulthood were rare. He shook away the thought and continued making his tea.

Shirabu did not come back in for the rest of breakfast nor when everyone dispersed. Semi thought of heading up to the war room with Tendou and Ushijima but he remembered all the times he was third-wheeling without knowing. So instead, he slapped two slices of bread onto a plate and shuffled to the lab.

Shirabu was sitting along one of the other tables not facing the window. The door was closed but not locked so Semi carefully stepped inside. Shirabu glanced at him, then at the plate and straightened, glowering. He stared as Semi placed the plate next to the eye, dismantled into hemispheres to expose its innards.

“Bon Appetit,” Semi said.

Shirabu looked at the two lonely slices of bread. “Wonderful, but I’m busy.”

“Figured out what’s wrong?”

“I think it’s the photoreceptors,” Shirabu said, turning back to the eye. He picked up tiny tweezers and continued pulling out little bits of wires and circuits, carefully placing them onto a metal tray nearby. “They don’t respond to light the way they should so these nano-cameras can’t capture images correctly.”

Shirabu pointed at something with the tip of the tweezers so Semi leaned over his shoulder to look. He didn’t know what he was meant to look at though.

Shirabu continued, “I ran the tests before I built the prototype but maybe it got damaged when I put it together.”

He plugged in wires with tiny little adaptors into the eye and pulled a hologram closer. He moved Semi out of the way to reach for a flashlight that he shined upon the eye, gradually adjusting the brightness. He sighed at whatever he saw on the hologram display.

“No good?”

“It’s perfectly fine. I have to find another cause. Again.”

Semi nudged the plate closer. “Eat something. Your brain needs food. Even I know that.”

“You can’t eat in labs, Semi-san. They teach you that even in high school.”

“You think I went to high school?”

Shirabu looked up, face blank. “Should I not have assumed?”

Semi shrugged. “I dropped out in second year. We didn’t have the money for it.”

Shirabu did not look away but his face didn’t change either. If he pitied Semi, or judged him, it wasn’t apparent on his face. Semi didn’t like that.

“Just eat, damn it,” he said. “You’re literally the only person who uses this place. No one would care.”

“It’s not because people would care. It’s because of contamination.” But Shirabu took the plate anyway and wheeled his chair away from the table before he took a nibble. “Are you staying?”

“I’ve got nowhere else to be right now so yeah, I’m staying.”

“I like to work alone.”

“Sure,” Semi said, leaning back against the table. “I’ve been meaning to ask. If you’re a doctor, how do you know all this robot stuff?”

“They teach that as part of the biotech program.”

“Let me guess, you aced that too.”

Shirabu ate his bread and Semi took it as a yes.

He nodded at the dismantled eye. “You said _you_ built those prototypes. By yourself?”

Shirabu’s gaze turned weary. “Yes.” He added a moment later, “Everyone else had at least ten years more experience and they weren’t much about listening to…me, an intern who didn’t even finish residency before joining the team.”

A _prodigy_ intern with a terrible attitude who probably outdid everyone in that lab the second he stepped foot inside. Semi had worried about that too, worried that Shirabu would beat him at his own game. He was the close combat specialist in the team and having another could’ve meant that Semi’s entire purpose – and his self-worth, by extension – would’ve been for nought. In the end, he’d worried for nothing.

“So what happens to you afterwards? Do you have to finish your sentence? What _is_ your sentence?”

“Three years. I don’t have to finish as long as I pay back in service.”

That seemed fair. Three years was a bit excessive for theft though. Semi had only ever spent a night behind bars at the longest before someone came to bail him out. Usually his grandfather, and it would be followed by a long lecture that involved a lot of yelling.

“What’s prison like?” he asked.

Shirabu put down his slice of bread, jaw ticking. Semi realised the question might’ve been insensitive but Shirabu looked up and answered, “I was unconscious for two days after some assholes beat me up for ‘initiation’.”

Semi sucked in a breath. “Well, shit.”

“They mostly left me alone after that. Figured I was harmless.”

“They figured wrong, that’s for sure.”

The corner of Shirabu’s mouth twitched, as if he was going to smile. Then Semi realised, Shirabu had never smiled at Semi before. They’d never had a civilised conversation either. This was progress, right? This was good.

“You wouldn’t last a week there,” Shirabu said.

“Hey, I would easily kick all their asses.”

“And you’d get thrown into solitary. You’d never leave.”

That was probably true. The number of times Semi had come so close to actually being in jail was too high to remember but he was younger and wilder. Jail wasn’t a real thing at that age, simply something adults used to scare kids into behaving.

Shirabu finished off his bread and pressed the plate back into Semi’s hand as he rolled back over. “I was serious when I said I work alone. Please leave.”

“You little shit.”

Semi left anyway, smiling despite himself.

Everything was peaceful until later in the day, inside the training room, Goshiki asked quietly, “Semi-san. Are you and Shirabu-san together?”

_Oh, no_ , Semi thought. Goshiki was twenty-one years old and no stranger to what adults did in the dark but Semi still couldn’t shake away the feeling that he was about to traumatise the kid no matter what he said.

“We’re not dating,” he answered carefully. “What makes you ask?”

Goshiki blushed a furious shade of red, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know something happened but no one’s told me anything so I’m just wondering.”

_Thank god._ Semi patted Goshiki’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. Shirabu and I aren’t dating so you haven’t missed out on anything interesting.”

Now Goshiki looked confused. “Oh,” he said. “I thought you were because of what you said this morning and also you made him breakfast.”

Semi snorted. “It was two slices of stale bread, Tsutomu. Not exactly the pinnacle of romance. Besides, Shirabu is the last person I would ever be in a relationship with.”

Goshiki laughed nervously. “I thought that too at first but Yamagata-san and Tendou-san kept calling you two an old married couple so I got confused. Sorry for intruding, Semi-san.”

_Goddammit_.

“It’s okay. Those busybodies are bound to rub off on you one day.”

And indeed they did because that evening, the breakfast thing got back to Yamagata. When Semi repeated what he’d told Goshiki, he looked at Semi weirdly and said, “You might as well be dating.”

See, dating required feelings. Semi had none of that. Plus, dating was a burden, especially in their line of work. It meant caring and worrying and Semi didn’t worry for Shirabu anymore. He’d only just started to trust him to take care of himself in the field and what was the point of training Shirabu if Semi would just end up worrying about him anyway? It was a waste of effort and Semi said it all to Yamagata who raised an eyebrow at the rant.

“I’m just saying,” Yamagata said. “Anyway, have you read the reports Washijou sent us yet? It’s about the Hyogo rebel group and I’m pretty damned excited for this one.”

Semi let the topic change but couldn’t help feeling that his friends needed better hobbies than gossiping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for Shirabu being in prison is actually from a story my uncle told me about one of his seniors. They went to military med school and the senior stole a textbook (Netter's Atlas of Human Anatomy), which is hella fucken expensive, especially for that country at that time. The guy was actually kicked out of the med school and he was in prison for a few months. So I figured Shirabu would probably suffer greater consequences lol. 
> 
> I shall post the next two/three chapters within the next 24 hours.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mention of drugs, PTSD and minor (original) character death.

It started approximately forty-nine hours after that conversation.

They cleared the last known enemy camp in Miyagi. When Shiratorizawa and Karasuno arrived, the camp was already abandoned, possibly alerted by the capture of other groups. Reon’s drones tracked them down halfway towards a town where they intercepted them. Goshiki took immense pleasure in testing out the new torpedoes fitted onto the jet, taking out the small enemy tanks, but he couldn’t risk releasing them on the firefight without taking out their own so the cavalry was up to the rest.

It was an easy mission, all things considered. There was no logical reason for Semi to have turned up at Shirabu’s room that night. They’d never done it before when the mission went as smoothly as it had today but here Semi was, deep in Shirabu anyway.

Semi leaned over him, moving at the pace Shirabu liked but Shirabu was even more impatient today. He’d locked his legs around Semi’s waist, trying to urge him to go faster, deeper. Shirabu did it sometimes when he was close but he didn’t seem to be close now.

“Why are you so slow today?” he asked, huffing with a glare.

“Am I wasting your time?”

“It’s midnight and I’m tired. I want to-” Shirabu gasped, hands flying to Semi’s shoulders.

Semi smirked, grinding at that one spot and Shirabu’s nails dug into his skin, eyes squeezing shut. Semi liked this. He liked the rare moments when Shirabu lost control over his reactions and gave up something more.

“If you wanted to sleep, then why did you let me into the room?”

Semi drew out slowly and rocked in fast, hitting Shirabu’s prostate again. Another gasp, but quieter this time. His face flushed a pretty shade of pink. On the third, Shirabu had control again, only panting through his mouth. But his nails kept digging hard enough to hurt so Semi grabbed his wrists and pulled them above his head.

“Why, Shirabu?” Semi repeated, punctuating with another thrust.

Shirabu had a limit. For reasons Semi couldn’t possibly fathom, Shirabu had _never_ let himself be stimulated like this for long. But now Shirabu let Semi rock against his prostate again, his chest rising and falling rapidly, turning to press his face into his arm, sweat rolling into the dip of his collarbones.

It was this moment, watching Shirabu struggling to hide his pleasure, that Semi realised he could drag more out of him. He _wanted_ to drag more out. A moan, a plea, Semi’s name, anything. He knew this wasn’t what they agreed on, which was to take what they needed and nothing more. This was selfish. This was Semi revelling in the sight of Shirabu gradually coming apart.

He slowed down but continued rocking his hips to test the waters, to see how much he would be allowed. Shirabu shook but didn’t stop him, so Semi kept going and nosed along the exposed length of his neck, breathing in the scent of military issued soap and something sharp, distinctly Shirabu. Semi dragged his tongue from the junction of Shirabu’s neck and shoulder, over the dogtag chain and up to his jaw, making him shudder.

“Semi-san,” Shirabu exhaled unsteadily.

“Yes, Shirabu?” God, his voice was so hoarse.

Shirabu did not reply. Semi shifted both of his wrists into one hand and slid the free hand down the length of Shirabu’s arm and his chest, brushing his thumb over a hardened nipple. Shirabu made a sound that was halfway between a choke and a whine, legs tightening around Semi’s waist, which only made Semi’s dick grind against his prostate harder.

“Stop,” Shirabu gasped. “Stop.”

Semi removed his hand. “You okay?”

Shirabu still hid most of his face in the crook of his elbow, flush extending down to his neck, eyes shut tight. He shook his head. “I’m… I’m going to…”

_Oh._ “It’s okay. Why do you think I’m doing this?”

“I don’t like it. Just go back to whatever you did before.”

Semi didn’t want to go back. Everything before had been impersonal, chasing a singular goal as quickly as possible. But knowing how much more they could both be enjoying this, what they’d been doing up until now paled in comparison because he was suddenly high on Shirabu’s scent, the taste of salt on his skin and his suppressed sounds that shot all the way to Semi’s groin with the potential of getting much more.

But Semi sighed. He released Shirabu’s wrists and planted his hands on the bed instead. He changed the angle of his thrusts so he could go deeper but no longer meeting Shirabu’s prostate directly.

“Happy?”

Shirabu nodded, still refusing to open his eyes. Semi fucked him until Shirabu’s hand reached down to pump himself and then both came quietly afterwards.

After they cleaned up and dressed, Semi sat on the bed for a moment, legs exhausted from exertion. Shirabu put lube and condoms away into the drawers by the bed.

“The reason you won’t let me touch you,” Semi said, “is because you’re sensitive, isn’t it?”

Shirabu glowered, saying nothing.

“You would’ve come untouched if I kept going. Are you embarrassed? Because you shouldn’t be. It’s kind of hot.”

“I’m not embarrassed about that and I would appreciate it if you would get off my bed so I can sleep.”

Semi did stand but he didn’t move away. “Then why? What are you so afraid of that you stop me every time I try to make you feel good?”

“Because it’s not necessary for our type of relationship.”

_But you want it_ , Semi would argue. He would’ve stood his ground and fought for it until Shirabu gave in, or decided this wasn’t worth the benefits and cut everything off. Semi couldn’t handle that idea so he backed off. After all, Shirabu was right. It wasn’t necessary for whatever they were.

Yamagata’s words came back to him; _You might as well be dating._

It was a stupid idea and Semi was only entertaining it because he was still high with desire and frustrated with the turn of events.

“All right,” he relented. “Sorry for pushing too much tonight.”

“It’s fine. Goodnight, Semi-san.”

Semi took the cue to leave.

That night was the very first time he noticed the subtle shift.

~

The next time Semi noticed, it was a few days later, late at night. A couple of smaller missions ran in those few days but they hadn’t met up again. In fact, Shirabu barely spoke to him and all the progress Semi thought they’d made came unravelling. It always seemed to be one step forwards, three steps back with him.

They were due to leave for Hyogo the next morning but a few texts from Shiori had Semi rolling in bed, unable to sleep.

He shuffled towards the kitchen but saw that dim light filtered from the common room so he changed destinations – and then regretted it. Shirabu was sitting on the couch with Reon, backs turned to the door, talking softly.

Reon sat here sometimes on nights when things were bad, said it was better to be at a place where he had good moments with friends. Being oldest of the team, Reon felt some sort of responsibility to shelter everyone else from just how bad his PTSD could be sometimes but they all knew about the two months that he’d spent captive at enemy hands before rescue came.

Reon said he was improving, and Semi did believe it. But he was also due for another psych evac soon, which stressed him out more because he wanted to pass this time. He wanted to be out in the field again without putting his teammates’ lives in danger.

Semi hesitated for a second before shuffling into the room. “You guys all right?”

They both turned to watch as Semi settled onto the opposite couch.

“Yeah,” Reon answered. “I was just telling Shirabu about old concepts to use miniature hydraulic engines to power prosthetics.”

Even Semi understood that wasn’t a good idea.

Shirabu remarked, “It’s all purely science fiction. It would never work in real life.”

“Right.”

The conversation delved into other fictional inventions and discussion on why most would never be viable products, carried out mostly by Reon, who understood mechanics, and Shirabu, who understood both mechanics and human physiology. Semi just listened, thinking up other sci-fi inventions he’d seen in Shiori’s movies.

A while later, Reon claimed he was going to sleep and softly padded out of the room, leaving only Shirabu and Semi, sitting across each other. If Reon had ulterior motives, he did not make them obvious.

Semi was about to get up too but Shirabu murmured, “Couldn’t sleep?”

That was all it took for Semi to sink back on the couch with a sigh. “Yeah. My sister texted me that Gramps is in hospital again.”

“Oh. Is he okay?”

Semi shrugged. “I don’t know. Shiori said he might not make it.”

His grandpa had recovered from falling a few months ago and he was doing well. So Semi hadn’t gone back to visit yet and every time any other member of the family came to visit him, all they would tell Semi was to come see his grandfather who couldn’t travel far anymore. But Semi genuinely had been busy.

Shirabu stared. In the dim, quietness of the room, his stare seemed to break down everything Semi did to hold himself straight.

Finally, Shirabu said, “Maybe you shouldn’t come to Hyogo tomorrow. It’s only an aid mission.”

Semi shook his head. “I can’t leave the team like this. There are so many other people who don’t get to leave from duty. I’ll go after I get back. It’s just one day.”

That unnerving stare continued. “Why do you refuse to see him?”

“We don’t have a good relationship but I guess that’s my fault. After my dad left, everything I did was a disappointment to him.”

“Something to do with you joining a gang?”

Semi looked up. “We’re a family of seven, Shirabu. Ma’s pay wasn’t enough to feed all of us and my job wouldn’t even feed _me_ so yes, I joined Karasuno. Gramps hated that I was going into underground fight clubs and distributing drugs but when he found out that I was starting to get involved in turf wars, that was the last straw and he stuck me in the military.”

For someone like Semi who ran wild in the streets for five years, the strict military life and the discipline were a living hell. There were constant orders without tolerance for question. Punishments were harsh even for speaking out of turn and collective punishment meant his whole platoon hated him. Not to mention, higher ranked officers turned a blind eye when cadets took their anger out on Semi.

He’d been miserable for years before he eventually found Shiratorizawa. Shiori was right to call him immature for still holding a grudge against someone who saved Semi from a worse fate had he stayed in Karasuno. Without impulse control, Semi was almost certainly going down a dark path.

“I lost my mum and my brothers eight years ago,” Shirabu said, surprising Semi. “We lived in Nagano when the insurgent group was still terrorising the prefecture and they raided our town. They blew everything up. Mum and my brothers died right there. Dad was crushed under the building and I almost lost him too. Don’t do anything you’ll regret, Semi-san.”

Then Shirabu was getting onto his feet, leaving without another word. Semi just sat there, unsure whether that was a step forward or not, and wondering when they were going back more steps.

~

The Hyogo mission went wrong.

The Nagano aid mission was smooth sailing, the cloaking device working wonders to hide their cargo ship. It failed now and as luck would have it, it failed just as they reached the rebel hideout; an abandoned shrine outside Kato that managed to survive the first waves of attack on the country. It was tucked between tall, moss-covered trees and the buildings themselves were overrun with greenery, hiding it almost in plain sight.

If there was ever hope that Taichi got the situation under control before they were detected, it flew out the window the moment a runner arrived, reporting of soldiers marching through town. A direct confrontation was not wise but they had no choice now. They’d have to deal with approaching enemy before thinking about relocating bases.

The rebel leader Kita Shinsuke and Ushijima conducted a plan, and weapons passed among them quickly. Tendou loaded himself up with grenades and a sling shot; Yamagata climbed to the top of the shrine with someone from the rebels, twin snipers set up; Goshiki readied a missile launcher. Semi himself opted for a rifle this time, seeing no way of getting close to the enemy line without getting blown up by Tendou’s grenades and Goshiki’s missiles. Knives were only good in close range.

Their only good luck was that the shrine was on top of a hill, making their enemies easier targets as they climbed. But there were many of them and they had tanks of their own that started to blast through trees and buildings before either Ushijima or Kita ordered to open fire.

Then it was absolute chaos, the scene closer to what Semi experienced in the initial days of the war than anything in the past months. The rebels were large in number, nearly two hundred of them, and they’d laid traps of their own along the path to the shrine. It took out many enemy soldiers and tanks but the firefight still ensued, reaching the archway of the shrine’s entry but coming no further.

Semi fired from the balcony but his aim had never been a strong suit. He had a second to roll out of the way when a tank blew a hole where he was a heartbeat ago but the wood gave out beneath him and he dropped to the floor below, nearly crushing someone. The person dragged him away just as a wooden beam came crashing down, splinters flying. Semi barely registered it, vision still swimming from the fall, the sound of explosions and shouts and gunshots all overlapping, stretching itself thin like muffled cotton in his ears.

Among that was someone yelling at him. Semi struggled to focus on the person in front of him and what they were yelling but after a few more times, he understood, “Get up!”

The guy was a rebel, one of the twins.

Semi scrambled up, joined him behind a pillar and continued shooting, advancing into the courtyard when he could until the enemy called for a retreat earlier than they could’ve. Semi would call it good luck but it was likely to regroup and strategize to come back stronger.

By the end, the shrine was near wasteland with debris from explosions and bodies littered on the path to the courtyard, most of them enemy soldiers. Kita had a list of backup bases, all in shrines long abandoned throughout the prefecture. He chose one further out into the country, back near a town they’d already liberated. The moving took a better part of the evening, even with the cargo ship. Taichi had to disable all GPS transmissions until he could get the cloak fixed.

By the time things settled at the new base, Semi was ready to pass out. People sat around their new base and some treated their wounds with supplies from the Shiratorizawa ship.

Semi checked his pockets out of habit and realised that he hadn’t brought his phone, as was protocol on missions. But Taichi had said there was no way for them to leave tonight, not until he could fix the cloaking device. It was a long way back to Miyagi.

Too restless, Semi wandered outside to stand guard around the perimeter with some of the others.

“Where are you going?” Shirabu called from behind.

Semi turned and jabbed a finger in the general direction. “Guard duty.”

Shirabu narrowed his eyes. Out here, the only light came from the moon, faint and pale but his eyes were bright and scrutinising. He stepped up to Semi and grabbed his jaw in one hand. He turned Semi’s head from side to side. “I heard about the fall from Osamu,” he said.

Semi placed a hand on Shirabu’s wrist to brush him off. “I’m fine.”

“Go sit down inside. I’ll come check on you when I’m done with the others.”

“Shirabu, I’m-”

“Inside. Now.”

Shirabu stared him down. Semi stared back just as hard but Shirabu did not falter, not even a little. So Semi rolled his eyes and went back inside.

Kita and Ushijima were discussing something with a group of rebels, including the twins and a man with darker skin who occasionally smacked one of the twins’ heads. To Semi’s surprise, Tendou was sitting alone in a corner instead of joining in on the discussion so Semi shuffled there, finally realising how battered his body was when he ached to even sit down.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Just tired,” Tendou answered. He leaned back on his hands. “Man, this is not how I saw today working out.”

“Me neither.”

Semi scanned around the sombre room, only lit by a few strategically placed lamps. People were scattered around the hall in small groups, some lying down, some treating minor wounds, all bone tired. He spotted Yamagata, ever the social butterfly, hopping from group to group, exchanging a few words with a smile. Taichi was gone to try and fix the ship, taking Goshiki with him to help. Shirabu’s copper head was somewhere in the crowd, though Semi didn’t dwell on it.

They needed to send a report back to Reon, once Taichi gave the all-clear for transmission.

“These guys don’t fuck around,” Tendou said. “I can see why they’ve managed to hold out this long.”

Then he stretched out on the floor with a long groan, long, spindly limbs going in every direction. Semi nodded in agreement, too tired for words. He thought about stripping off his Kevlar vest when he realised he wasn’t even wearing it. None of them were, not anticipating an attack like this. That explained why his entire side hurt. He touched his ribs and then hissed when pain flared. Yeah, that seemed about right.

A while later, Shirabu finally made his way over to them with a case in his hand, looking as exhausted as Semi felt. He’d taken off his jacket, leaving him in a black undershirt and a band on his forearm that signified him as a medical officer. He knelt in front of Semi.

“I told you,” Semi started, “I’m fine.”

“The back of your shoulder is bleeding,” Shirabu deadpanned. “Take off your shirt.”

“Whoa,” Tendou said, raising his head. One look from Shirabu had him quietly go back down.

Semi did as he was told and was surprised to find that his jacket and shirt came away stained red, still damp but he hadn’t noticed with how much he’d been sweating. “Huh,” he said.

Shirabu made him turn around so he ended up facing Tendou as fingers started ghosting over his shoulder blade where he assumed the cut was. That touch alone made goosebumps rise.

“It might’ve been a nail,” Shirabu said. “From the woods when you fell. You won’t need stitches but you need a tetanus shot when we get back.”

Semi just nodded, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the face Tendou was making. Shirabu’s fingers were warm on his skin, even when he poured something that made Semi hiss and arch his back. Shirabu was not gentle at all and Semi wasn’t sure why he expected that. There was only quick efficiency when he wiped down whatever he’d poured onto his back and replaced it with something that stung even worse.

“Stop being a baby,” Shirabu snapped when Semi made a sound of protest.

“You try having crap splashed into your wound.”

Shirabu did not respond. He plastered something over the wound, pressing down firmer than necessary and surely, he was just being a dick now. Semi was about to snap when the hand slowly dragged down his back and curved around his side to cup his ribs.

“It’s starting to bruise here,” Shirabu said, softer than before.

Semi looked over his shoulder to see Shirabu frowning at his hand. Sweat had plastered his fringe to his face, back hunched as if he physically could not keep himself up anymore. Semi took the hand from his ribs, giving it a squeeze before he placed it on Shirabu’s knee.

“Are _you_ hurt anywhere?” Semi asked.

Shirabu shook his head.

“Then get some rest. Everyone else can take care of themselves.” Semi put the T-shirt back on but balled up the jacket and placed it on the floor beside him. “Here. I’ll wake you up when we ration out the food.”

Shirabu eyed it wearily for a moment as if he wanted to argue, but he eased down instead, using the jacket as a pillow. He curled on his side, facing away. When Semi turned back, he finally saw Tendou’s frown shifting between the two of them. Tendou didn’t say a word before he closed his eyes.

~

Taichi fixed the cloak the next day. He set up secure communication networks between Miyagi and the rebels as he did for the Nagano rebel group.

The whole day, Semi was antsy. He went around and got to know the others, helping them set up look-outs around the base. This shrine did not have the benefit of being on hilltop but according to Kita, the spirits from the surrounding forest would offer some sort of protection. Semi wasn’t one to believe in spirits, and Yamagata even less so, but it was hard to argue with someone like Kita whose authority radiated in a slightly terrifying way. It seemed as if Kita could make anything bend to his will, and if his will was for spirits to exist, then they sure as hell would. Or at least, the twins made him out to be that way.

Ushijima offered to stay for two more days in case they needed more support but thankfully, Kita declined. He trusted his people to handle themselves well.

By the time they could leave safely, Semi had almost run out of things to occupy himself with as they flew five miles in the air. He joined in the team’s conversation occasionally but he mostly tried to focus on carving some branches he picked up from the shrine. He was using his dad’s pocketknife so that didn’t really help take his mind of anything.

“He’ll be all right, Eita,” Ushijima said.

Semi nodded. “Thanks, Wakatoshi.”

Shirabu got up from his seat across the ship to join Semi on the floor, carefully picking out a spot that wasn’t taken up by wood shaving and dust. He didn’t say anything, just watched Semi chip bits of wood. Then he picked up a stick from a small pile Semi had already messed around with.

“They’re nice,” he said, spinning the stick around. Semi had whittled vines and leaves into that one. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“My dad. He was Grandpa’s apprentice. They used to make fancy furniture for rich people and they taught me how to carve before I could even use chopsticks.”

“That explains why you’re in love with knives.”

“I am not. They just feel more natural.”

“You are in love with knives,” Shirabu repeated. He nodded at the other unused stick, about as thick as two fingers and as long as Semi’s forearm. “Make me something.”

Semi put down the one he was holding. “What do you want?”

“Anything.”

Semi cut three inches and started to work. Shirabu remained quiet, watching, which made Semi nervous. He wasn’t good at this by any means and having someone like Shirabu watching him did not help. But whether intentional or not, just for a moment, it made Semi stop thinking about his grandfather and how he’d promised to be there today. It was just him, the knife and Shirabu’s careful eyes on his every move.

Semi hadn’t finished the carving when they arrived back at the compound but that would have to wait. He pocketed both the wood and the knife, sat through a long debrief before he begged Washijou, then he was driving out of the compound in a military-issued car, dialling Shiori.

Semi made it to the hospital in time. Shiori greeted him at the entrance with a tight smile and teary eyes then took him up to the room. He had pushed his way through his siblings to sit by his grandfather’s side. He was still alive then. He opened his eyes to look at Semi and give him a weathered smile that hadn’t been aimed at him in years.

“Eita,” his grandfather said. Just a single word.

“I’m here,” Semi answered.

When his grandfather reached out, he placed his own hands around it.

Semi’s grandfather died later that night.

As if he’d held on only for this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't happy with this chapter so please do let me know what you thought. I welcome constructive criticism.
> 
> Also I originally gave Shirabu a sister but upon the reveal that he has two little brothers, I proceeded to kill them instead. haha.


	6. Chapter 6

Semi stayed for a couple of days after the funeral but it was all the liberties he allowed himself to take. He did not mourn, but not for lack of feeling grief, but rather because he felt his grandfather’s presence in the fatigues he wore. He appreciated it more than he ever had.

When he returned to the compound, everyone had just arrived back from a mission. They asked about his grandfather and his family, and said their words of condolences with pats on his back. Semi thanked them all before he slipped away to the training room.

He’d started to warm up at the bags when Shirabu appeared, still in his fatigues. “You seem happy for someone who came back from a funeral,” he said.

“I’m just relieved that I got to say goodbye. I… I got to say sorry too.”

Shirabu toed off his boots and started to drag mats from the pile in the corner. “What did you say sorry for?”

“I gave him a lot of shit. I mean, you saw how I resented him for sticking me here and that’s not even the worse of it.”

“Do you still resent him?”

“Not anymore. I’m kind of glad he did it.” He was just ashamed it took him this long, only when his grandfather was at death’s doorstep, to admit it. “After Dad ran off, he put so much faith in me and I disappointed him at every turn until the very last moment.”

“Honour his memory by doing your best now.”

That was what his mum said too.

Shirabu had finished dragging the mat into the centre of the room and he stood on it as if he was waiting. Semi sighed and left the punching bags in favour of stepping onto the mat.

“Didn’t get your ass kicked enough on the job?”

“Didn’t do enough kicking.”

Semi smiled. He’d almost missed this.

When Semi fucked Shirabu that night, he slowed down, dragged it out, burying his face in the juncture of Shirabu’s neck and shoulder and breathing in deeply. Shirabu let it happen and even went as far as digging his fingers into Semi’s hair and tugging, drawing a groan from him every time.

Semi wanted more.

~

With Semi back, the team was ready for higher difficulty missions again. They aided the Iron Wall troops when called and had to give up some ground in one part while they’d managed to take back more in another. Though they needed more time and more man-power Washijou’s wide-scale attack plan was moving along well. Same old.

The difference now was that every time Semi stepped onto the battlefield, he felt a sense of pride he hadn’t before, and the feeling that someone was watching over him. He was starting to understand where Kita Shinsuke was coming from.

Then there was one mission in Yamagata prefecture to raid an enemy base. Semi and Tendou had done their recon, identified this base as a fairly important part of the enemy control over the prefecture and their communication network, set up to scout the Dateko forces. Thus, it was a good target to strike next. The base was manned by about eighty soldiers, good defence around the perimeter and heavy artillery in their arsenal.

Shiratorizawa was good at what they did. In the beginning of the new team, there had been doubts from the public and head military officials. The old one as good as ended in flames. The new one, with their interesting set of characters and discipline cases, was bound to be worse.

But now a year into the implementation, the new Shiratorizawa had proven themselves time and again. They’d recovered more ground than any operations had during the war and all without losing soldiers left and right. More cities were liberated and more people were free to join the fight and the war efforts. There had been pushback from their enemies, strikes where they least expected but Tendou’s guidance had managed to keep a good portion of their territory safe. Now almost a quarter of Yamagata prefecture was freed and the Iron Wall extended beyond Miyagi’s borders.

But for every five successful missions, there was one less so. It was to be expected. No one won all the time and during those, Semi considered coming out alive a win.

This one was different.

Shiratorizawa struck at midnight when guards changed shifts. Taichi disabled the security drones and the electric fence and Semi took care of guards around the armoury, seizing the mortars and ammos so their enemies couldn’t use the weapons against them. He raised a perimeter of plasma shields – Reon’s inventions – around the building to block entry.

He peered into the distance where he knew his team was hiding behind the hanger and said into the earpiece, “Armoury secure.”

Ushijima replied, “Copy. Alright, team, let’s move out.”

Within a minute, gunfire echoed and alarms blared, shouts rising above the cacophony. It drew out the soldiers to the eastern side of the base where his team was wreaking havoc.

Semi’s scoped the perimeter once more for possible surprises before he returned to the firefight, his friends behind their shields and the enemy behind a wall of sandbags. Bullets streaked past the fifty meters of distance between them as Semi calculated where best to strike.

And he was the first to see _him_.

At the front of the enemy line, pinning down his team was Utsui Takashi, Ushijima’s dad. Semi had pressed himself against a car, ready to attack from a different vantage point but that single sight of the man made him pause.

Then Ushijima, a distance away, stopped shooting.

The night was dark but harsh white lights hung from high posts and even like this, it was impossible to not see when one looked carefully enough. Ushijima kept staring at his dad, face stricken and Semi thought, _Oh no._

Ushijima had always been a reliable leader and he got the team through anything. But Semi could see the stupor and the horror, and the way Ushijima’s gun lowered. Then Tendou was next, gaping.

Utsui called for a ceasefire when Shiratorizawa’s bullets started to lessen in number and from where Semi hid, he saw Utsui’s wide-eyed realisation too. Seven years wasn’t long enough to forget your son’s face. This was not good. They had to get out of there.

Activating his shield, Semi darted for his team, calling for retreat because it was clear that Ushijima was suddenly stuck between duty and family. But there was one person from Shiratorizawa who hadn’t been fighting long enough to recognise the infamous Utsui Takashi, the best of his generation, a near legend. 

Shirabu still had his blaster up behind his own shield, and he was aiming at that very person.

Before anyone could do anything, Ushijima yelled, “No!” and knocked the gun to the ground.

Shirabu flinched in shock, gawping at Ushijima.

“Retreat!” Semi yelled again. “Goshiki, get the hover ready. Let’s move it!”

At this point, no one was shooting anymore but they still ran with their tails between their legs. Ushijima was the last person to board the hover right before it took off.

Silence clung thick on the journey home. Pale as a ghost, Ushijima hunched in on himself, completely unaware of Tendou eyeing him in concern or Goshiki glancing back from the pilot’s seat every few minutes. Yamagata’s eyebrows furrowed. Taichi’s seemed to be trying to block everything out by tapping away at his hologram – or maybe he actually was doing something important. It was hard to tell from his face.

And Kenjirou ̶ he hugged himself, eyes flickering between Ushijima and Semi, slowly piecing things together.

Semi gripped the handle of his pocketknife, unable to say a word.

It was not until they touched down at the compound that Ushijima raised his head. “I’m sorry for letting everyone down tonight.” He turned to Semi. “Thank you for keeping them safe, Eita.”

Goshiki said, “You didn’t let us down, Ushijima-san!”

A chorus of agreements echoed around the room, followed by slaps on his back and words of reassurance, diffusing the tension bit by bit. But it was back in full force at the debriefing when even Washijou seemed at a loss. He narrowed his eyes at Ushijima’s bowed head, unlike anything anyone had ever seen before, and then at the map on the table. In the end, he berated them all for failing a perfectly doable mission before he skulked out.

Semi turned to Ushijima. “How are you doing?”

Ushijima looked around the table at all of his teammates and Semi recognised the shame on his face. “Not well,” he admitted. “I’m… I’m going take some time for myself.”

With a last bow, he shuffled out of the room. Tendou seemed to want to follow but he did not. They all shared a look with each other. It was rare for Ushijima to let something affect him this much but it was understandable. He hadn’t seen his father in seven years, lived with wary eyes on him and whispers behind hands, not knowing why his dad defected, why he left his family. There was no sign of him for years and suddenly he showed up again, fighting against his own country.

“All right,” Reon said into the silence. “Go get some rest.”

Semi couldn’t sleep yet so he spent half an hour in the training room, spending excess energy before he shuffled to the bathrooms. He hadn’t expected anyone to still be there but the shower at the end of the row was running. Semi took off his clothes, ready to get into the closest cubicle when a bang echoed like someone just knocked against the partition between showers.

“You okay?” Semi called.

A moment later, a voice croaked, “Yeah.”

“Shirabu?” Semi shuffled all the way to the end where the white curtain was drawn. Shirabu was the first to leave the briefing room after Ushijima, quietly scuttling out. “Have you been here the whole time?”

“No.”

Semi pulled the curtain aside. Shirabu stood under the spray, letting water stream down his body as he folded his arms across his chest, fingers digging into his biceps, shoulders hunched. He peered up with wide eyes, jaws clenched tight.

“Are you okay?” Semi repeated, stepping into the cubicle on autopilot.

“I’m fine,” Shirabu gritted out, turning away from him. “Just leave me alone.”

“You’re clearly not fine. What’s wrong?”

“I’m just in shock. Let it go, Semi-san. Please.”

That one word spoke volumes about how Shirabu was handling tonight. He’d seen Taichi almost bleed out and die and he himself had almost been stabbed on his very first assignment. Neither of those times had shaken him this much. Or maybe it had but he’d dealt with it alone, quietly, and Semi just never knew.

He stepped closer, turning Shirabu by his shoulders. The normally lukewarm water was now freezing cold and closer up, Shirabu’s lips had started to become blue. But he still refused to look at him so Semi tilted his head by his chin, meeting his glower.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Kenjirou.”

Shirabu stared up defiantly, insisting on this façade of strength. One heartbeat, two, three– then all at once he sagged. He murmured, “I was about to kill Ushijima-san’s dad. I would have done it. I had a clear shot and I would have pulled the trigger.”

Semi was still holding his shoulders and he brushed his thumbs back and forth across his cold skin. “You didn’t know. No one would’ve blamed you for it.”

Shirabu shook his head furiously and clutched Semi’s arms in vice-like grips. “That was someone’s dad that I was about to take away.”

_Oh._ Semi understood now. _This_ was Shirabu’s realisation, the same one any soldier would inevitably go through. The realisation that every person they killed had lives and families and lovers and people who cared for them, people who depended on them. One that had occurred to Semi a long time ago.

“I…” Shirabu trailed, staring at Semi as if he was pleading with something. Then he dropped his head on Semi’s shoulder. “I always thought I was doing it to protect the people I love. That’s what I always told myself. But Ushijima-san’s dad and my dad and…”

Semi wrapped his arm around Shirabu, a hand cupping his head.

Shirabu continued softly, “What does it say about me that it’s taken this long to-”

“Nothing,” Semi finally cut him off. “This is war, Shirabu, and we cope in different ways. People like us are only here to fight battles for entitled assholes who see no value in our lives, and they never will. Even when _we_ see that value we don’t have a choice, only orders.”

“I was a doctor,” he whispered. “I took an oath to do no harm.”

“You could quit. You don’t have to keep going.”

Shirabu stayed quiet and Semi continued gently rubbing his back. He’d understood the gravity of the situation a long time ago when Japan’s armies were being pushed back further and further and every day, more people fell. Semi had fought with fury in retaliation until he stopped one night to think. There were no words of comfort. This was simply a job. Teachers taught. Mechanics fixed. Chefs cooked. Soldiers fought.

Shirabu realised that too so there was nothing Semi could do but be there for him, let him come to terms with it. Semi held him for a long time until Shirabu was ready to lift his head.

“If I quit,” he said, “I go back to prison. I’d be useless.”

Semi would tell him that was a stupid reason to keep going but he understood the notion too well. So he settled for pressing a soft kiss to Shirabu’s forehead, barely a touch at all.

“You’re shivering. Get dressed then try to get some sleep.”

Shirabu nodded. He slipped past Semi and trudged out, footsteps slapping against the tiles. As Semi showered under the freezing spray of water, he listened to Shirabu quietly get dressed and the bathroom door thud close a few moments later.

Semi didn’t take long. He was more exhausted than he thought, swaying on his feet. When he finally shuffled back into his room, he wasn’t surprised to find Shirabu standing in front of his desk. His head snapped up when Semi entered, holding up the carving Semi hadn’t finished, a rabbit in the middle of a leap, ears pressed flat to its body.

“It’s for you,” Semi told him. “But I still have to sandpaper it.”

Shirabu placed the rabbit back on the table. For a minute neither of them said anything, staring at each other. Then Shirabu leapt forward and crashed his lips onto Semi’s. It took him by surprise more than it should’ve. Shirabu devoured him in fury, teeth tugging on Semi’s lips and licking into his mouth like it wasn’t enough. Semi started to respond automatically, kissing back just as hard before he remembered.

“Wait,” he breathed, physically pulling back to stop the kiss.

Shirabu frowned, lips glistening. His fingers had tangled in Semi’s hair, preventing him from moving further away.

“You said no kissing,” Semi reminded.

“I don’t care. Just kiss me.”

Semi’s resolve was too weak to deny him this. He caught Shirabu’s lips again in a bruising kiss and hoisted him up by his thighs. He was none too gentle in dropping him onto the mattress with a squeak of the bedframe, following right after to press up against his body, grinding their hips together. Semi wasn’t hard yet but with the way Shirabu frantically clawed at his shirt and hooked his legs around Semi’s waist, he was about to be.

“How do you want it?” Semi managed to ask.

“Make me forget tonight.”

He could do that.

He slipped a hand between their bodies and beneath the waistband of Shirabu’s pants, feeling the gasp against his mouth when he palmed Shirabu’s hardening dick. Semi littered kisses along his jaw, over the fading scar there and down the length of his neck, teeth digging into skin at the same time he flicked a thumb over Shirabu’s slit. That earned him another gasp, more violent than the last as nails dug into Semi’s back. It made his head swim with desire.

Semi started to stroke him, the angle awkward but Shirabu still swelled in his hands, breathing heavily as Semi sucked bruises on his pale skin, tugging hard then lapping at the spot to ease the pain.

“Are you leaving marks?” Shirabu asked.

“ _Shit._ Sorry, I’ll stop.”

Shirabu fisted a lock of Semi’s hair and pressed his face back into his neck. “Doesn’t matter. Keep going.”

That was all Semi needed. He paused his strokes only to pull Shirabu’s shirt off, giving him free access to where he’d been desperately craving. But Semi took his time to get there, giving now-exposed collarbones and the smooth planes of Shirabu’s chest the same treatment before he stilled his hands and looked up.

And _oh._ Oh, Shirabu was a wreck.

His bottom lips had caught between his teeth, quivering with each breath. His eyes had squeezed shut and fingers bunched around the sheets in death-like grips. _Fuck._

Semi dared to flick his tongue over a nipple. Shirabu mewled, back arching as if subconsciously chasing for more. It went straight to Semi’s dick. This. This was it. Shirabu was finally letting him do this.

Semi swallowed hard and turned to sucking and biting gently around the nipple, resuming slow, languid strokes of his hands at the same time and felt the jerk of Shirabu’s hips every time Semi slide his thumb across the slit. He was already so wet, pre-cum dripping.

When Semi turned his attention to the other nipple, Shirabu groaned.

“Semi-san,” he said hoarsely, more breath than voice.

Semi raised his head to find that Shirabu’s eyes were still closed, sweat dripping down his temple. Semi realised then that Shirabu wasn’t even aware he’d said his name. He froze.

Shirabu took a few shuddering breaths before he opened his eyes, so much darker than before, and Semi still couldn’t move. All he could fixate on was Shirabu beneath him, falling apart at Semi’s touch, _moaning his name._

And one thing suddenly made sense; Semi liked Shirabu.

He liked him a lot, so much so that this one single moment – one that Semi never thought he’d live through – felt like falling off a cliff.

_Semi-san._

“Semi-san,” Shirabu said. “What are you doing?”

He remembered suddenly that he had his hand down Shirabu’s pants, wrapped around his leaking dick. He’d left bruises all the way down his neck and across his chest, leaving both his nipples bitten red.

“I don’t…” he started, unsure how to continue.

Shirabu frowned. “What?”

Semi swallowed again. “I don’t think I can fuck you the way you want tonight. I’m really tired.”

“Oh.”

Disappointment. That was disappointment on Shirabu’s face.

“But,” Semi said, forcing his hand to move, “I can still make you forget.”

He kissed Shirabu again, mostly to break the eye-contact that had become too much. Shirabu didn’t seem to mind as he kissed back, burying his hands in Semi’s hair once more.

Pushing jarring realisations to the back of his mind, Semi quickened his pace and brought Shirabu to the edge, watching him tense and tremble as he started to reach his climax, his nails scraping across Semi’s back. Then Semi paused, drawing a frustrated groan and a glare.

“Don’t you dare-”

Semi caught his lips again and swallowed the rest of the sentence as he started back up slowly then increasing in speed, rolling Shirabu’s nipples between his free hand. Shirabu’s startled jerk and hiss was worth the pain on his back as nail broke skin. Semi brought him up to the edge again, revelling in the way his eyes shut on his own accord as if he physically could not keep them open, a constant stream of whimpers escaping him. It was almost too much for Semi, so hard in his pants that it almost ached. But tonight wasn’t about him.

Shirabu almost tipped over again but Semi stopped just in time.

“ _Fuck you_ ,” Shirabu spat viciously with murder in his eyes. His fringe was almost soaking with sweat. “You are an asshole.”

Semi smirked. He brushed Shirabu’s hair back and placed a kiss between his furrowed brows. “I know.”

To prove his point, Semi did it again, easing Shirabu up to that point, almost drunk on the sight in front of him. He couldn’t help but whisper, “You’re so beautiful.”

Shirabu spilled suddenly with a gasp of Semi’s name. Semi pumped his hands through the orgasm, soaking in the way Shirabu’s quiet moan echoed around his room. This was him with his walls down, opening himself to Semi more than he ever had.

And Semi was so weak to it.

With a sigh, he dropped his head on Shirabu’s shoulder as the caught his breath, still trembling when his fingers found the back of Semi’s head.

“You know,” Semi mumbled into his neck, “I wanted to push you one more time.”

Shirabu pinched his ear. “I would’ve punched you.”

Semi just hummed, lying on top of him until hands started to reach down, towards Semi’s bulge. He caught Shirabu’s wrist.

“Not now.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” He pushed onto his elbows and rolled so Shirabu could get up. “I just want to sleep.”

Shirabu turned to face him with a residual frown. “Then I’m sorry I came in.”

Semi allowed himself to brush a thumb over the scar on his chin. “Don’t be. You needed it.”

Shirabu moved his face away. “I’ll leave now.”

He got up, reaching for the tissues on the nightstand to wipe cum off his stomach. Semi would’ve told him to stay the night, absolutely itching to blurt it but he bit his tongue. It was already terrifying enough to watch the freckles shift on Shirabu’s back with each movement, overwhelmed with the need to touch them as he realised once more:

_I really fucking like him_.

He held his breath as put his shirt back on and slipped out of the room with a final confused glance and, “Goodnight, Semi-san.”

The door clicked close quietly.

“…Goodnight, Shirabu.”

_Oh, fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So um, I promised it'd be completed like a week ago but um. I did major edits in terms of structure so now I'm left to completely rewrite the last chapter... I'm so sorry.
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. <3 Please do leave kudos and comments to let me know because they absolutely make my week. You can also come yell at me on twitter [@casastella_](https://twitter.com/casastella_).


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the longish wait! I'm finally back with the last three chapters.

The revelation was hell.

The next day, standing across the table from Shirabu in control room, the world was tilted sideways.

First there was Ushijima who was far more subdued. He was visibly trying to be his normal self by forcing himself to stand up straight but they could all tell his mind was not fully into it. He said he was fine and that his mum was far more pissed off than anyone. Judging from the phone call Semi overheard, he’d say ‘pissed off’ was an understatement and it seemed to ease Ushijima to know that someone else was also not handling this too well.

Second, there was Shirabu who was acting as if nothing had changed. When Semi saw him at lunch, he seemed as impassive as ever, walking out with a cup of coffee as Semi waddled into the kitchen. He gave a nod and no indication that last night even happened, as if the shower incident was some fever dream. Now he was standing with his arms behind his straightened back as they waited for Yamagata to join and the only difference was the multitude of muscle tape that peeked out from the collar of his shirt, hiding what Semi had left there last night.

The sniper arrived shortly, out of breath and hair in disarray.

“Sorry!” he huffed, taking up his spot around the table. “I slept through my alarms.”

Reon raised an eyebrow. “Plural? How many did you have?”

“Five,” Yamagata muttered. “But it wasn’t my fault! I just couldn’t sleep until six in the morning.”

Semi winced and glanced at Shirabu, who glanced back at him. Shirabu was wearing his glasses like a headband, which made him look even cuter. _Fuck._ Semi averted his eyes, feeling heat rise up his neck.

“So anyway,” said Yamagata, gesturing towards Ushijima. “What’s happening?”

Ushijima did not beat about the bush. “We’ve been ordered to drop the mission.”

Silence for one, two, three seconds. And then-

“What do you mean?” Tendou asked.

“Last night’s mission?” said Goshiki, tilting his head. “We’re not going again?”

“Why?” Semi added.

Ushijima answered, “The general didn’t tell why, just that we’ve been assigned another task further in Yamagata prefecture.”

Reon put a hand on his shoulder, just as confused. “Hang on a moment. This was a pretty big deal last night and Washijou-san wants us to drop it?”

“Maybe,” Shirabu said, “he thinks Ushijima-san might be too close to the mission.”

Okay, so Semi might like the guy but he wasn’t going to suddenly go easier on him just because of that. “Watch your words,” he warned.

Shirabu shrugged. “I’m sure Ushijima-san realised that already.”

The group turned to the captain and sure enough, he nodded. “I have. So I want you all to forget about this and focus on your next missions. It’s scheduled for the end of this week but before that, I want us to train again. This time with different leaders.”

Another silence in which Ushijima’s shoulders drooped just a little bit as he met his team’s eyes. He continued, “It seems that our current formation relies on me more heavily than I realised. But there will be times when I am…indisposed. Our team must be able to operate no matter what. This will also be a good opportunity to integrate Reon into our formation since he’ll be joining us soon.”

Semi was pretty sure Ushijima said the last part to shift attention from himself to Reon because they all knew already. He’d started reorienting himself on the shooting range again so it was only a matter of passing the evaluation. Still, it diffused the tension in the room as everyone wished him good luck.

The meeting ended soon after schedules were drawn up and invitations for training were sent to Karasuno and Seijoh. Even Ushijima shuffled out of the room lighter than he came in with Tendou once again draping himself over his shoulders.

Semi watched Shirabu go and then his feet followed on instinct.

Shirabu side-eyed him. “Can I help you?”

Semi had not thought this far ahead. “I have nothing to do for the rest of today. I’ll hang out with you.”

“Hang out,” Shirabu repeated. “My lab is not a place for ‘hanging out’, Semi-san. I told you I work alone.”

_Okay, Eita, this is your chance to put some distance between you two_ , was what Semi thought to himself.

What he said was, “You may have in the past because those assholes didn’t like you. But it’s different now so you’d better get used to us poking our noses in your business.”

Shirabu stopped walking to stare at Semi with an undecipherable expression. Behind them, the team’s footsteps were splitting off into different directions with echoing chatter but Semi couldn’t look away, worried he might’ve crossed some kind of line even though he hadn’t said anything incriminating.

Then Shirabu kept walking. “I guess you can help with something. But for the record, it’s mostly you who bother me.”

Semi hid his sigh of relief.

Inside the lab was a metal leg on the table, hooked up to a computer with a million wires at the knee joint. Shirabu made him hold and move the ankle while he took down notes on the monitor and occasionally sent back impulses that made the foot jerk like crazy, kicking Semi multiple times.

Even though it hurt, he endured it because it made Shirabu’s eyes light up with amusement when he made a fuss, telling Semi to ‘stop being a drama queen’.

Semi had come to understand that Shirabu was a private person by nature but he still could not figure him out, how he’d broken down just hours ago and now he was going on with things like normal.

“Shirabu,” Semi said, despite his better judgement. “Are you okay?”

Shirabu turned from the monitor. “I am now.”

“You don’t have to pretend, you know. I’ve been there. I know it’s not easy to-”

“It is for me.”

Semi shut his mouth, caught off guard. The most confusing part was that Shirabu was absolutely serious. This wasn’t some false bravado he was putting up. He meant it.

Seeing Semi’s surprised face, Shirabu continued, “I don’t live with regrets, Semi-san. I could’ve waited for a better offer before accepting the scholarship from the military med school. I wanted to go into pathology and not biotech. I shouldn’t have stolen the prototypes, knowing I’d end up in jail. I regret none of decisions and I don’t think regret this now. If given the choice, I would choose this again.”

Every single word lingered in the air heavily and not for the first time, Semi was scared of Shirabu and that logical thinking that didn’t allow him to be hindered by feelings. Not for long at least.

Semi nodded once. “Okay. I can’t fault you for that. But sometimes I wonder how you can live like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like a robot. It unnerves me how you can just put the most basic human thought processes on hold and do what you have to.”

“And it unnerves me that you’d let them interfere with your work.”

“Well, I guess we’re both fundamentally flawed, aren’t we?”

Shirabu stared and Semi stared back, taking in the dark bags under his eyes beyond the frames of the glasses. For a moment, neither said a word and somehow Semi could still feel himself slip further into Shirabu’s orbit.

He laughed quietly. “Look, I’m not here to sprout philosophical bullshit. Just… I want you to know that you’re allowed to not be okay.”

“I know. Now can you rotate the foot ten degrees to the left?”

That night Shirabu lied on his stomach, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. To fulfil the promise from last night, Semi went hard and fast even by his standards. Now he dared to trail a hand up the curve of Shirabu’s spine, along his nape and ghosted over the shell of his ear. Shirabu looked up sleepily. There was a wet patch on the pillow from him biting it, and Semi could still hear that single muffled moan that had slipped through.

Shirabu did not kiss him again this time and Semi made himself be happy with anything he could get. But he wanted more.

Semi swallowed around that thought and said instead, “You’re holding back again. When will you stop?”

“I’m not.”

“Liar.”

Shirabu shifted away from Semi’s touch. “You should leave.”

“This is my room.”

“Oh. Right.”

Shirabu heaved himself up, the bed squeaking. He stood on unsteady legs, picking up his clothes from the floor and putting them on one by one. Semi took the glasses from the nightstand on placed it carefully on Shirabu’s face. It was terrible how badly he ached to draw him in and kiss him. On the lips, his nose, his cheeks, anywhere as Shirabu’s gaze took in every little thing. Or just a hug would do.

_…Shiiiit._

This was worse than he initially thought.

Two quick knocks on the door snapped him out.

“You busy, Semisemi?” Tendou called from the other side.

Semi and Shirabu shared a final look before Shirabu strode to the door and pulled it open. Tendou’s hand was still up, ready to knock again, but flinched when Shirabu popped up in front of him.

“Oh, hello,” Tendou said, the corners of his mouth tilting upwards. He eyed the rumpled bed, sheets kicked to the end, the pillow askew and still had a wet patch. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No, we’re done,” Shirabu answered with no shame whatsoever, walking off down the hall. “He’s all yours, Tendou-san.”

“Uh.”

“Ignore him. What’s up?”

Tendou lost his smile and checked the hallways before he closed the door. “I need a favour tomorrow night.”

~

The compound was never completely quiet, not even at night. There were always soldiers patrolling, cars and supply trucks coming in and out or generators rumbling. The communications offices were always on alert, monitoring the state of their territory at every moment.

The Shiratorizawa building, however, had its moments of quiet even if one or two of the team were up and about well past bedtime, which made things more difficult for what Semi was trying to do with Tendou.

They were in tac gear, hauling surveillance equipment from the armoury to the hangar, which wasn’t very far. But the hangar doors were fucking loud. It grumbled and grated, whirring like a helicopter as it rolled up and Semi winced throughout the thirty seconds it took for the massive doors to open even halfway. Tendou laughed nervously with a shrug as if to say, _What can I do?_

The things Semi did for his friends. Albeit he didn’t require much effort to convince at all, which was probably the main reason Tendou came to him for help.

Semi loaded up the two bags of equipment onto a jeep and backed out of the hangar, waiting for Tendou to roll the doors back down again before he swung himself into the car.

“Let’s go.”

As expected, the patrol officers didn’t question them before they opened up the gates to let them through but Semi still held his breath until they were a mile down the road. The clock on the dash read 22:45.

“You do realise we’re gonna get caught no matter what, right?” Semi asked again. “Even if we get back before sunrise.”

Tendou leaned back in his seat, stretching out his long legs as much as possible. “Yeah, I know. I plan to tell Wakatoshi tomorrow anyway but hopefully it doesn’t get back to Tanji-kun. I’m not ready to die.”

That was a very real possibility but it wasn’t as if Semi hadn’t gone off to follow his nose on his own before and he was still alive.

The drive back into Yamagata was forty minutes long, through a quarter of which Tendou started to scroll on his phone and blast songs by girl bands. This felt like any other recon mission they’d done together but also very different. Where before there was always a goal, there was no set objective this time.

Tendou had simply said, “I want to follow a hunch.”

Semi had learnt to not question Tendou’s hunches. He did, however, say, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

To be honest, Semi had his doubts.

They reached the Iron Wall blockade around quarter past eleven, stopping only to report to the commanding officer about the border crossing. They did not need to give a reason.

Beyond that point, tension thickened. He and Tendou had come here before the last mission but back then, they didn’t know who awaited beyond that electric fence. Now they did.

Semi parked the car half a mile downhill from the base and clambered up rocks and between trees with bags slung over their shoulders, relying on night vision googles instead of torches. They set up telescopes and microphones between two bushes taller than twice Tendou’s height and wider than their jeep; their home for the night. Then it was a waiting game.

The base was on higher alert than last time with more soldiers patrolling both around the perimeter and the armoury and Semi had no doubt that they’d have higher security measures in their networks too. Not to mention those two tanks were definitely not there before. But as the night wore on, there was nothing interesting happening and no sight of Utsui, nor any mention of him.

“What is it that you’re expecting to find?” Semi whispered between yawns.

“I’m not actually sure,” Tendou said, handing him a thermos of black coffee from the bag. “I just wanted something to tell Wakatoshi about his dad.”

Semi blinked. “So your hunch thing was bullshit?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it bullshit. I do think that the thing with Takashi-kun is more complicated than it seems.”

“Why first name basis?”

Tendou grinned. “It feels weird calling him ‘dad’.”

So he opted for that instead? Semi shook his head. “You have theories?”

“Several but my biggest bet is one Wakatoshi wouldn’t like.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I think Tanji-kun and Takashi-kun have their own agenda. That’s why we’ve been told to drop this mission and yet no one else has been assigned to it yet.”

Semi swore. “I don’t want to tell you how to do your job but you shouldn’t go making assumptions like that.”

Tendou put his hands up. “I know, I know. That’s why I haven’t told Wakatoshi yet. I could be wrong.”

His tone suggested that he didn’t think so.

“What are the other theories then?”

“That he didn’t defect seven years ago but he was taken hostage, or kidnapped, and he’s appeared now because he’s worked his way up the ranks and is a mole.”

Seeing Semi’s face, Tendou added, “Yeah, that one is a work in progress.”

“So what is it exactly that you want Wakatoshi to hear after this mission?”

In the patchy moonlight that filtered through leaves, Tendou’s face mellowed as he answered, “That his dad didn’t leave him.” He took his headset off for a moment. “He never said it but deep down, that’s what he wants to hear.”

That’d be nice, Semi thought. Then he thought about how much attention Tendou paid Ushijima and how close the two really were. They never publicly displayed affection, with the exception of when Oikawa Tooru was involved, and in team settings both were equally close to everyone else. But alone…

“I guess love makes you do reckless things,” Semi muttered.

Tendou sniggered, smothering his laughter at the last moment. “We’re already pretty reckless.”

They turned back to telescopes and continued surveillance. Within the next couple of hours, a chopper arrived and left but the person who came out was not Utsui, who was likely asleep. Maybe they weren’t going to get the info they wanted tonight.

Semi started planning the next day’s training regimen for his part in leading the team and tweaked things based on today’s performance, taking note of Reon’s long range proficiency and Taichi’s surprising knack for garrotte wires, planning ways to better utilise them both.

Today’s training was shambles by Shiratorizawa standard and Karasuno proved to be unorthodox opponents, even when Semi had a good idea of many members’ strengths and weaknesses. Seijoh also turned out to be a pain in the ass to face because of how surprisingly coherent they were. Semi had to hand it to Oikawa and he also took some notes from him too.

Unwillingly, his train of thoughts arrived at Shirabu station. There was a moment today when he’d picked up a blaster rifle and stared at it with a blank face. Semi was about to make his way over when Shirabu raised his head, slung the rifle across his torso and marched out. He was as consistent as ever throughout the day.

“Can I ask you something?” Semi said.

Tendou was downing the last sips of coffee from the thermos and he hummed in answer.

“What happened with you and Wakatoshi?”

Tendou gave a knowing side-eye. “There’s not much to tell. We ended up sleeping together and the next morning, we decided to make it official.”

“That sounds so simple.”

“Well, we weren’t in denial about our feelings unlike you and Shirabu.”

“I’m not in denial anymore.” Semi sighed, unsure why he was confiding this much about his love life. Must be the lack of sleep and the coffee inhibiting his brain-to-mouth filter. “Now I don’t know what to do.”

Tendou looked at him, calculating. “I thought you’ve been together since Hyogo.”

A scoff. “You give us too much credit. Shirabu barely tolerates me outside the bedroom and I feel like some greedy idiot who won’t take a hint.”

“Have you told him?”

“Of course not. I’m an idiot but I’m not stupid.”

“Well,” Tendou started, “the way I see it, you have two options. Tell him and get together or just… Not tell him and stew in your own misery.”

“Or I could tell him and stew in my misery anyway because he stops talking to me.”

Tendou stared at him hard this time. “You really like him, don’t you?”

Semi sighed again. “You see how that’s a problem, right?”

Tendou patted him on the shoulder. “It’s really not, Eita. Like I said before, you have just to ride the waves to calm waters.”

Semi had been doing that. He’d been letting things develop on its own, riding high one moment and crashing down the next because that was how things always were with Shirabu. The waves had been leading him to a whirlpool of his own emotions and now he was stuck. And he was being melodramatic.

“Between you and me,” Tendou said, “I think you should go for it.”

If only.

By three-thirty in the morning, Tendou called it quits when the base proved to be in a boring state of stability with still no signs of Utsui. They disassembled the equipment and lugged the bags back to the jeep, the downhill trek proving more strenuous than the uphill climb as Semi struggled to find good footing on the rocky slope.

It wasn’t until they neared the car that Semi sensed it.

The jeep was turned off, hidden between trees a few meters off the side of the road but in driver’s seat was a figure. Semi dropped his bag with clanks and grabbed his knife, realising that they’d already lost the element of surprise when the car door opened. Tendou swore and dropped his bag too, swinging his rifle into aim.

From the open door stepped out none other than Utsui. The area was dark and the moonlight was obscured by the sheer height of the forest around them but there could be no one else.

“You boys need to hide yourselves better,” he said, leisurely approaching them as if he wasn’t at gunpoint and a knife was ready to sink into his flesh.

“Stop right there,” Tendou warned.

Utsui put his hands up but didn’t stop for another three steps until he was in partial light. “Don’t worry. I’m unarmed.”

Semi barked, “What do you want?”

“I just want you to deliver a message to my son.”

Semi felt Tendou tense beside him.

“Tell him,” said Utsui, “that I’m sorry.”

Silence followed for several heartbeats.

Tendou scoffed. “I think you owe him more than that.”

Utsui nodded. “I do but that is all I can offer him for now. Here.”

He threw something towards them and Semi had half a mind to take it out mid-air but he let it drop to their feet with a jangle. The car keys. Utsui then started to walk off down the dirt path the way Semi and Tendou came from.

“Word of advice,” Utsui said without looking back, so sure that he would not find himself with a bullet or a blade between his shoulders. “Have a backup plan.”

Semi wanted to chase after the man, demand answers in any way he could but a part of him made him stay rooted on the spot, watching him disappear into the night. Utsui Takashi was ex-Shiratorizawa and had two decades of experience on them. He had to admit but he and Tendou alone would not be able to take him on so easily.

Tendou exhaled deeply. “Well, that was a waste of time. Come on. Let’s check the car and go. This place is giving me the creeps.”

It definitely did.

~

The team found out, of course. Ushijima was not impressed and Reon just pinched the bridge of his nose in disappointment. The captain did seem to appreciate it just a little bit though, at least according to Tendou and that alone seemed to be worth it for him despite his claim as a waste of time.

The person Semi didn’t expect to have an opinion on this matter was Shirabu but apparently he had some things on his mind and he was not afraid to make them known.

During a break in training, Shirabu sauntered to where Semi and Sugawara were refilling their canteens.

As soon as Suga saw the medic coming, he made goofy face and slithered off.

Shirabu uncapped his own canteen and filled it from the next tap over and Semi was too tired to brace himself.

“It’s a dick move going off by yourself last night.”

“I had Tendou. And for the record, it was his idea so go tell _him_ off.”

Shirabu turned the tap off abruptly, glaring at it. “If you died on that stupid trip, no one would know.”

Semi blinked, taken aback. It almost sounded like… “You would know where we went. The cars are satellite tracked.”

Now Shirabu glared at him. “That’s not the point. You are a vital part of this unit, Semi-san. Our offense depends on you too much for you to go getting yourself killed.”

Shirabu was somehow more worked up than Semi had ever seen him. “Hey,” he said softly, uncertain of what he’s dealing with here. “I’m not going to die. I’m right here.”

“Barely. You’ve been making all the wrong calls today. I don’t want to follow a leader who’ll get me killed.”

With that, he was spinning on his heels and skulking off, leaving Semi in all states of confusion.

Sugawara chose that moment to come slinking back and say, “Oof.”

~

Semi thought and thought and the more the thought, the more conflicted he became.

Fact 1: He liked Shirabu. A lot. He wanted everything with him and there were times when it seemed as if Shirabu might too. But those thoughts would be quickly bashed down by the fact that Shirabu did not care to mix personal matter and work. Even his expression of concern for Semi’s life was regarding the team’s function so obviously that was moot point.

Fact 2: He and Shirabu were fuck-buddies. It was a fragile balance that they worked hard to achieve but things had been improving. As pathetic as it was to admit, meaningless sex was good for them.

Fact 3: Considering Fact 1, Fact 2 must end.

Fact 4: Semi did not like Fact 3.

Like he said, the revelation was hell.

Judging by how long Semi probably had feelings for Shirabu by now, it shouldn’t have made life this difficult to finally realise the full extent of his feelings but it did. He started to take note of the number of times he thought of Shirabu every day – which was a disturbingly high number – and how often he sought out Shirabu automatically, which was also disturbingly high.

When regular missions began again after training, it was worse because Semi would keep Shirabu’s whereabouts in mind _all the time._ Digging his blades between ribs? Shirabu was at 3 o’clock, bashing someone’s face in with his rifle. Roundhouse kicking a guy? Shirabu was behind him, firing rapidly. It was unproductive.

Every time Shirabu caught Semi looking, he would raise an eyebrow and yes. Semi knew, okay? He knew he was staring but fuck, he couldn’t help it.

The worst of all though were the actual feelings. They were so complicated. There was no reason for him to want Shirabu to eat well and sleep well and not push himself too hard. There was no reason for him to want Shirabu to not go charging at the enemy – it was his job! He shouldn’t want Shirabu to care when he got minor injuries he could treat himself. He shouldn’t feel his insides melt at the sight of Shirabu and he definitely shouldn’t want Shirabu to look at him and feel everything he felt too.

Semi decided then that it had to end.

Two weeks after that night, Shirabu had flopped half on top of Semi and simply laid there with no intention to move. Semi took to rubbing his back, savouring the warmth of his skin, both of them damp with sweat. They were making a mess with the condoms but Semi’s mind was elsewhere, rolling the words around in mind and his mouth.

“Shirabu,” Semi said slowly. “Should we stop doing this?”

Shirabu raised his head, frowning. “Why? Are you not enjoying it?”

“What, no! Of course, I am. But I’ve just been thinking and…”

“And?” He was still frowning but it was too much to hope that he was opposed to stopping rather than genuinely trying to figure out why.

“If this isn’t going anywhere we have to stop at some point anyway, right?”

Shirabu thought for a moment, pushing himself up onto his elbow. Semi held his breath. For once he wanted disagreement, an insult, anything to prove that he was being an idiot by even suggesting.

But then Shirabu said, “Okay.”

Just like that. Shirabu got up, looking for all the world like this could not have mattered any less and Semi was screaming in his head. Shirabu’s clothes found their way back onto his body piece by piece.

He gave Semi a long, final gaze and then muttered to himself, “Maybe I’ll ask Taichi.”

And _now_ Semi knew he had a problem because the idea of Shirabu going to someone else for something he was perfectly capable of providing made his insides crawl and his chest tighten. He shrugged and said, “Sure.”

He wanted to die.

After that everything got even worse.

The constant thing on Semi’s mind became that offhanded remark about Taichi, who had his eyes set on someone with such intensity that he ran into crossfire and took a bullet. Taichi wasn’t going to fuck Shirabu. Semi knew that. And yet a voice in the back of his mind asked, _What if he is?_

What if Goshiki turned Taichi down and Taichi was looking for some sort of rebound and Shirabu happened to be a convenient one at the right time? What if Taichi would sleep with Shirabu anyway even though he liked Goshiki? What if Taichi liked both of them?

It was ruining everything.

Every time Semi saw Shirabu with Taichi an ugly feeling would rise in his chest, even in the middle of a battle and Semi would yell with more vigour as he slashed his knives. Game nights were no exception. It didn’t help that Shirabu chose to sit next to Taichi, both of them now shirtless and Semi had unwanted front row seat across the table.

When it was Goshiki’s turn, he called three of aces and put three cards facing down. It occurred to Semi that he could’ve called bullshit – two aces already sat in his hand – but he was more preoccupied with the fact that Shirabu so casually tapped at Taichi’s arm and leaned in to whisper something.

“Really?” Reon said, looking around the table. “Is nobody going to call that? Surely that’s bullshit.”

“Are _you_ calling, Reon-kun?” Tendou challenged with a grin.

Reon was already in his boxers and he held up his hand that was made up of a quarter of the deck. “Can’t risk it.”

Goshiki said quickly, “I guess no one is calling it. Ushijima-san, it’s your turn!”

Which was shady as fuck but Semi paid more attention to the quiet conversation across from him as Taichi sniggered and Shirabu’s lip quirked in a smile. He glanced at Semi from the corner of his eyes and raised a brow when he caught him staring.

Semi didn’t say anything but honestly, what was so interesting that they needed to be whispering to each other at team bonding night? _Team_ bonding, not Shirabu and Taichi bonding.

This wasn’t the first time either.

Semi knew he had no right to feel like this but he did. It felt like Shirabu was doing it on purpose lately to get a reaction out of Semi, which was a ridiculous notion. Why the fuck would he care?

It was doing Semi’s head in.

He’d suggested stopping because it felt wrong to keep sleeping with Shirabu when their ‘no strings attached’ had suddenly become a ball of yarn around Semi’s entire self. At some point along the way, he’d become addicted to Shirabu’s scent clinging to his sheets and the weight of his eyes when he looked at Semi and _saw_ him. Not the jaded, impatient front Semi put up but the man underneath with insecurities and guilt, and then Shirabu chose to open himself too, however briefly.

Semi didn’t want to give that up, not when he was on the verge of uncovering something.

Throughout the week Semi kept walking by the lab, peering in just to see if Taichi was there and sighing in relief when he was not. Semi would then saunter to the garage and sigh even longer in relief when Goshiki was waist-deep beneath a car or a hovercraft and Taichi was right there with him with a moonstruck expression.

One evening, Semi walked by the lab and Shirabu finally called out, “Can I help you?”

Semi poked his head through the door. “No, I was just going to my room.”

Shirabu pushed his glasses up. “You’ve been walking the long way a lot. Are you trying to get more exercise?”

“Anything wrong with that, Doctor?”

The tips of Shirabu’s ears reddened. “If you have so much time on your hands, come help me.”

It didn’t take much convincing for Semi to shuffle inside. “The leg?”

“I’m working on something else now.”

There was another leg on the table but compared to the other one from before, this one seemed more basic in design, no more than metal in the shape of a leg with a ball-and-socket joint at the ankle. Semi remembered Shirabu saying something about how ankle joints shouldn’t be like that but that he’d had to make it simpler in earlier models so they’d ended up with these instead.

“Isn’t this old?” Semi asked.

Shirabu nodded. “It’s the same type as the one I gave my dad. I want to streamline the motor function in his foot but it’s dangerous to test it on him so I’m trying something with this.”

Right. Shirabu had said something about how anything already integrated with the human nervous system was potentially too dangerous to remove or significantly alter.

Semi cleared his throat. “Can I help with anything?”

“Not today. You can watch.”

Better than being kicked out.

Shirabu tinkered with the leg for the whole evening, muttering explanations about what he’s doing in a way that Semi might understand. Semi tried not to be too touched at the consideration and failed.

Shirabu turned the leg several times, pulled apart the outer metal covers and delicately fixed up the insides. When he was finally done, he stood back and assessed the leg with a hint of pride, arms folded over his chest, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was hard to keep bad thoughts from forming when a sheen of sweat covered his skin and Semi knew exactly what that felt like beneath his hands.

He cleared his throat. “Your scar is looking much better.”

Shirabu touched his jaw lightly. “The wound wasn’t that deep.”

Semi remembered all those months ago, that first mission that changed everything. If he hadn’t decided to keep training Shirabu himself, would they have become closer and eventually liked him more than he planned? Maybe he actually liked Shirabu from that moment. He’d certainly cared enough to not want to see him hurt. Semi sighed.

“Are you okay?” Shirabu asked. He pushed his glasses up his nose.

Semi pursed his lips. There were five feet of space between them but it felt like fifty. It felt like he’d lost. “I’m fine.”

Shirabu faced him properly. “What’s the real reason you keep walking past the lab?”

“Like you said, exercise.”

Shirabu closed the distance between them, eyes on Semi like he knew the correct answer and that wasn’t it. Semi straightened on instinct, drawing himself to full height as the air suddenly changed. Electrifying gaze dragging down to his lips, Shirabu’s cold hand slowly reaching up to cup his jaw. Semi held his breath as a thumb tugged on his bottom lip, resisting the urge to pull it into his mouth, hands balling into fists by his side.

Shirabu whispered, “Do you still want to fuck me, Semi-san?”

He pushed his thumb into Semi’s mouth and Semi welcomed it, closing his lips around the digit, licking the rough pad of his thumb, tasting the salt on his skin. Shirabu shivered, eyes darkening.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” Shirabu continued. He pulled Semi down by the jaw, hot breath fanning over Semi’s cheek and making the hair on the back of his neck rise. “That’s not the look of a man who wants to stop.”

Even if Semi wanted to retreat, he couldn’t. Shirabu’s other hand had wrapped around the back of his neck, keeping their faces mere inches apart. How easy would it be to kiss him?

Semi took Shirabu’s wrist and pulled his thumb out of his mouth. He admitted, “I don’t.”

“Then why?”

“Because I want more.”

Semi saw the exact moment Shirabu understood, the startled blink that snapped the live wire connecting them. His hand lifted from around Semi’s neck and took a step back, sliding his wrist out of Semi’s hand.

“What.”

Tendou’s words echoed in Semi’s head; _ride the wave._ He inhaled deeply. “I like you.”

Frowning, Shirabu took another step back.

“But,” Semi said, “I know this is more than what we agreed on so it’s better if we stop now.”

He’d hoped to control damage but Shirabu had already placed a canyon between them. “Oh.”

“Look, we don’t have to be weird about it,” Semi tried. “I’ll get over it eventually so for now just pretend you never heard me.”

Shirabu nodded. His eyes flicked to the leg and then back to Semi. “Won’t be a problem. I ignore you most of the time.”

Semi forced himself to smile. “You’re such a little shit.”

Shirabu glanced at the door and Semi took the hint.

This was not the outcome he’d wanted at all but he couldn’t say he wasn’t expecting it. He just didn’t think Shirabu would reject him so painfully without ever saying no but that was Semi’s own fault. He should’ve known better.

He nodded at the door, swallowing again. “See you later, I guess.”

Another silent nod was all he got in response before he dragged himself out of the room.

Down the corridor, Semi let himself think, ‘ _I’ve fucked up._ ’

But maybe now that knew his answer, he could finally try to put a brake on his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally meant for Semishira's story to be a 3-part series and this is where Collide was meant to end. The reason for that is the next parts will be from Shirabu's point of view and they move away from their friends-with-benefits relationships. 
> 
> But instead of publishing another story for the next part of the series I decided to keep going with this because it's a lot easier for people to follow through to the very end. 
> 
> (Also the reason I haven't gone into much detail about Utsui here is because I do have intentions of writing an Ushiten fic that really deals with the Utsui issue. Fingers crossed I actually write it.)


	8. Surrender - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shirabu deals with the aftermath of Semi's confession.

It was routine for Shirabu to call his dad after dinner at least once a week. Sometimes he would be on assignments or be stuck doing something else but he would always try to at least let his dad know what’s happening. Lately, he’d started to multitask – something Shirabu hated with a passion on principle alone but he had no choice. The number of assignments had increased with how quickly they were recovering Yamagata prefecture and Washijou did not want to lose the momentum. Not to mention his work piling up in the lab and the only time to work on them was at night.

“It’s not a very efficient method,” his dad was saying about Shirabu’s latest experiment, “but there’s not much better unless, well, you know.”

Shirabu knew too well as he sighed at the petri dishes on the other bench, far away from his dinner. Different types of tissues grew on the media but none of them were human, which was what he needed to really test what he was doing.

Hiroshi continued, “There are some lines you shouldn’t cross, even in a black ops team.” He added as an afterthought, “Especially in a black ops team.”

What line was it, Shirabu would ask. He was already on the battlefield putting bullets through human beings and breaking the most fundamental code of being a doctor.

He yawned instead, covering his mouth to save his dad from the half-chewed food in his mouth.

“Tired?” Hiroshi asked.

“A little bit,” he admitted.

“Are you eating well at least? You look like you’ve lost weight.”

Shirabu touched his face subconsciously. “I’m eating okay. We just went through an intense round of training and our missions have been stacked afterwards.”

He wasn’t looking at the phone but he heard his dad sigh and he could just imagine the look on his face. It was probably the same one he made when Shirabu brought home the first prosthetic leg to try out and told him that he got permission for it. In other words, his dad saw right through the bullshit.

“Shouldn’t I be more worried about you?” he asked to change the subject.

“Son, you’re never going to be more worried than a father about his kid. And besides, unlike you I’ve been packing a few pounds around the barrel lately.” He emphasised it with a laugh and a pat on his belly, which was indeed more pronounced than the last time they talked.

Shirabu smiled. “I’ve packed pounds in muscle mass.”

“Cheeky, aren’t we? Your senpais have rubbed off on you.”

He tensed unintentionally, a sudden ember of dread flickering in anticipation.

As expected, his dad’s tone changed as he said, “How are they by the way? Particular that one who was training you.”

“They’re all fine.”

“Is he being kind to you now?”

Shirabu knew it was a mistake telling his dad about Semi but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and instead he’d ranted on about the asshole who didn’t want him there. In truth, he’d just been happy to be out of jail and able to talk to his dad whenever he wanted so he’d confided more about his life than he otherwise would have. Now he’d come to see that it might’ve been a mistake.

“He’s fine, Dad. We’ve been…getting along.”

Until _that_. It had been almost two weeks but Shirabu was still doing his best to avoid him. If anyone asked, he’d deny it and claim that he’d just been busy because he _was_ busy. If they hadn’t been meeting each other’s eyes at all then who was anyone to point that out.

Shirabu looked up from his dinner at the phone screen to find his dad frowning. He’d been greying for as long as Shirabu remembered but every time they called, the amount of grey hairs seemed to multiply. His eyebrows were white now.

“I’m just glad that he’s stopped training you now,” he said. “You kept getting hurt.”

“He didn’t do on purpose,” Shirabu found himself responding automatically. “Without him, I would’ve been hurt worse on the field.”

“Well, forgive me for not wanting my son to be around brutes.”

Shirabu scowled at the last spoonful of rice in the bowl. He hated to think about Semi these days but it was also harder to convince himself that Semi was a brute. He was rough around the edges and wouldn’t hesitate to resort to violence but he was more than that. Clearly.

“Kenjirou? Are you okay?”

“Yes! I was just thinking.”

A strange look passed over his dad’s face but he chose to change the subject. “Well, okay. You probably want to get back to work?”

Shirabu turned to the bench where there were disassembled parts of yet another eye and petri dishes where myofibers grew. He didn’t want to cut the call with his dad short but he needed to work and also possibly stop where that conversation was heading towards. His dad made it easier by claiming he had to do some reading too and ended the call with a final message to take care.

That was when the person in the doorway decided to make his presence known. Semi leaned against the frame, arms folded over his chest. The tank top put his muscular arms on full display and damn it all, Shirabu’s eyes still glazed over them before they landed on his face, set in an awkward smile. 

“You’ve been slandering my reputation,” Semi accused. 

_That’s right. Aim for normalcy. Pretend it never happened._ “Your reputation as an eavesdropper?” Shirabu shot back. “No, I think that’s still intact.”

Semi shook his head in a manner that Shirabu could only describe as ‘fond’, perhaps without meaning to. And well, wasn’t that slap upside the head, making the hair on Shirabu’s neck stand. Semi pushed himself off and strode further into the room.

Shirabu cleared his throat. “When did you get back?”

“About an hour ago. I just got out of the debrief.”

Semi had been on an assignment with Yamagata to infiltrate a known enemy base in the territory they’d recovered. They’d left the base operational in hope of sending a mole undercover but the previous three agents had gone missing so it had become clear that the base could not be left standing. Semi had been gone for two days and Shirabu spent those days feeling a twisted sort of freedom but also an uneasy vacancy inside.

“Anything new?”

Semi sighed, slouching. “No. I couldn’t get much out of the guys before hell broke loose.”

Shirabu instinctively scanned Semi for any sign of injury but was flooded with relief when he found none. He hated the feeling. He hated it so much he wanted to carve it out of himself.

The night when Semi and Tendou snuck off against specific orders, Shirabu went to Semi’s room and found an empty bed. So he wandered to the training room and then the kitchen and the common room and eventually every room in the compound. The panic that gradually seeped as he shuffled around in the dead of night was cold and blinding and his heart had thundered in its cage before he could force rationality to take over and convince himself that Semi was fine. That Semi was more than capable of looking after himself and others.

But one thing became clear: Shirabu never wanted to feel that panic again, nor the associated relief that followed the next morning when he saw Semi in full tac gear and a sheepish grin. The jerk.

“So anyway,” Semi said, straightening. “You’re eating in the lab now. What happened to ‘protocol’?”

“I’m just behind on my work.”

“Oh.”

Shirabu expected him to stay. That would be their ‘normal’. Semi would stay and Shirabu would bounce ideas off him and even though it would be mostly one-sided, it helped him immensely to have someone to just listen.

This time, Semi dug into the pocket of his pants and placed the object on the bench. “I just came to give you this.”

Sitting next to Shirabu’s half-eaten plate of dinner was the wooden rabbit, mid-leap and polished to gleam under the lights. The first time he saw it, he almost read too much into the way it was positioned, on the run, and he started to dislike it before reminding himself that it was probably because of the limitation of the stick used.

“The wood isn’t great,” Semi continued, digging both his hands into his pockets. “It might not last long and will probably break easily so just be careful with it. I’ll, uh- I’ll leave you to it.”

Shirabu nodded stiffly, arms feeling awkward by his side, unsure where to put them. He watched Semi turn, walk two steps to the door then turn around.

“Am I really a brute?”

Shirabu was not prepared for this at all. For a moment he thought Semi might be teasing him but his eyebrows were drawn, head cocked and eyes weary. He was serious.

“You use knives as your main weapon of choice, Semi-san,” Shirabu said.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Why are you asking all of a sudden?”

He shrugged but it was loaded. “You’ve called me a brute or a barbarian multiple times so I wonder if you really think that.”

“What if I do?”

“I guess it doesn’t matter. I’ve never really been a gentle person anyway. Sorry, forget I asked.”

‘ _Forget I asked.’_

 _‘Pretend you never heard me._ ’

How was Shirabu supposed to do any of that when Semi looked like that? Worse still, he knew exactly how gentle Semi could be from all those times he’d coaxed Shirabu into giving up more and more of himself until he was barely holding onto his last threads of self-control. And those times afterwards when his hands would flitter over Shirabu’s skin as they caught their breaths, and then in the showers when he’d held him tight, knowing exactly what Shirabu needed.

Semi was almost out the door.

“You’re not.”

He faced Shirabu.

“You’re not a brute so stop looking like I just kicked you.”

Semi gave a sleepy smile. “Don’t stay up too late. We have an SAR tomorrow.”

For ten minutes, Shirabu stood in the middle of the room, wondering when Semi would get over ‘it’ so Shirabu could put out this campfire in his chest before it had the chance to grow.

~

Calling assignments search-and-rescues implied that there were people in imminent danger in need of prompt rescuing. SAR for Shiratorizawa meant more like whole-team scouting missions than anything else. Low-level danger. Annoying at worst and boring at best. The few times Shirabu had been on SARs, the team was mostly surveying abandoned towns for detected rebel activity, which usually turned out to be false alarms.

This time it was a small city along the border between Miyagi and Iwate to the north in parts of the territory they’d claimed back. Reon had come along too, but he would remain with Yamagata as look-out on one of the taller buildings that overlooked the area to scout. He himself had drones that he would use for aerial survey.

On the ground, Ushijima assessed the holographic map in front of him, four colours dividing the district into different sections.

“We split in twos to cover more ground. Kawanishi with Satori, Eita with Shirabu and Tsutomu with me. Reon, are you set up to cover your zone?”

In his headset, Shirabu heard Reon’s affirmation and a spherical drone hovered around them with a green flash of light.

The city had been evacuated during the initial days of war when naval attack came from the sea. They’d been able to hold the enemy at bay here but the city had not yet been cleared for resettlement. Remnants of the battles still remained, buildings collapsed, the ground charred, vehicles overturned or parts missing. Vegetation had begun to regrow over the ruins, nature claiming back the land.

Sometimes, places like these became grounds for looting in these trying times or it provided shelter for those displaced or on the run but it was rare for anyone to stay long in such a haunting place.

Shirabu shared a look with Semi and refused to let this awkwardness get in the way of the mission. He had no objections last night when he learnt that he’d be paired with Semi and he certainly was not going to object now. He set off first into their designated zone, felt the weight of the gun in his hands heavier than it ever felt before. Semi followed him.

“I hate search and rescue,” Semi muttered as they walked along the main path into the sector, scanning their surroundings. “Waste of time.”

Shirabu shared the sentiment but there was intel and when there was intel, Washijou liked to send out his most capable no matter how long it took. With any luck this intel turned out to be false too. Often satellites picked up residual activity from cell towers still left functioning and sometimes those were civilians reaching out for help. Occasionally they picked up enemy movement and Washijou didn’t want to risk anything. So now they were circling this part of the city.

“I’m so tired,” Semi continued. For once, it was he who had eyebags and not Shirabu.

“If you fall asleep, I’m leaving you.”

“Good to know I have such reliable teammates.”

Shirabu looked dead ahead as they approached a junction. A few flipped cars, fallen traffic towers, windows of surrounding shops dark and still.

It was not until three more streets later that Semi paused dead in his tracks and Shirabu followed his line of sight towards a row of terraces.

“I see movement,” Semi whispered, his hands sliding to the knives strapped to his thighs. “Reon, I need a thermal scan. Do you have our location?”

“Copy that. Heading your way now.”

Shirabu located a vantage point behind a car to give both cover and a good view of the houses. They ducked behind it, waiting for Reon’s drone. It was a minute or so later that Shirabu spotted movement on the upper floors too, a shadow passing through the window.

“Number 37, first floor, left window,” he whispered, gun steady. He was really hoping he wouldn’t have to use it today.

“Armed?” Ushijima asked.

“I can’t tell.”

“Hold position,” he ordered. “We’re heading to your location now.”

No sooner than he’d said it, Goshiki yelled, “Ushijima-san!” and sounds of gunfire blasted from the earpiece.

“Fuck, they’re here too!” Tendou cried. “Taichi, this way!”

Another layer of gunfire echoed.

“I have eyes on Taichi and Tendou,” Yamagata said, “but I can’t- _shit!_ Shit. They know where I am too.”

Realisation hit Semi first. He swore viciously and activated his shield, jumping in front of Shirabu a heartbeat before bullets clanked into the car behind them. Shirabu threw up his own shield, scanning through the light blue plasma to the houses on the other side of the street. There, from the broken windows were six gunners, two at each window.

Shirabu turned to the opposite buildings to find that there were a few heads and guns poking through those windows now too. About twelve in total. They could handle that.

“You take them, I’ll take these guys?” he said.

Semi was surveying the building in front of them with a frown, sweat beaded on his temple already. His jaw clenched. “No. We have to retreat.”

Shirabu did a doubletake. “What? Why?”

Semi was usually the first to dive headfirst into a close combat, blade swinging. Shirabu had seen him take down eleven people by himself once. But now Semi’s face was pale and he seemed scared.

“This is an ambush,” Semi said. “They figured exactly how we’d operate these missions and they’ve been waiting.”

“We’ve been in situations like this before. We can still do this.”

“No, we can’t,” he insisted.

The Semi right now had completely subverted Shirabu’s expectations of him and Shirabu could only stare, dumbfounded, and Semi saw that.

“Shirabu,” he said, “you have to trust me.”

“I do.”

At the precise moment, the doors to both the buildings swung open and out poured at least a dozen soldiers from each, all armed and firing. He and Semi were giving them too-easy targets by sitting like ducks and shield integrity was already at ninety-percent.

Semi pointed to an alleyway a few houses down the way they came. Shirabu got the message.

With a final look, they made a break for it, darting between the buildings and leaping over upturned trashcans.

“What’s happening?” Reon asked. “You’re not on the road anymore.”

“We’re trying to shake them loose,” Shirabu answered between pants, adrenaline coursing through him, dirty brick walls whipping by in a blur. Behind them, their pursuers had not yet appeared.

“We need backup,” Semi said. “Can we draw them your way, Hayato?”

A grunt from Yamagata. “We’re all a little bit busy at the moment. These fuckers have everyone pinned.”

This time Shirabu swore. They needed a plan that was something other than running for their lives. For now, he turned down an alleyway and hoped it wasn’t a dead end. He dropped onto a street and darted for the alley on the opposite side before he looked back to see if Semi was following. He found him leaning against the wall, breathing heavily, face even paler and eyes unfocused. Only when he shifted his eyes down that Shirabu realised why.

Semi was bleeding. There was a wound on his thigh where blood had started to soak through his fatigues and one higher up, on his side, right beneath where the Kevlar vest ended. He’d pressed his hand there, stained with red.

Shirabu quickly determining that the higher bullet should’ve missed his vital organs and the one on his thigh wasn’t a major issue. But bleeding from two bullet wounds was going to slow them down.

“When?” Shirabu asked.

Semi huffed. The hand against the wall balled into a fist. Shirabu realised the only time it could’ve been was when they were behind the car, when Semi jumped in to shield Shirabu but left a side of himself unprotected for a brief moment. This was why he ordered a retreat instead of standing their ground.

“Just run,” Semi gritted out.

“I’m not leaving you.” He pulled one of Semi’s arms over his shoulder, taking care to not irritate the wound. Any moment, their pursuers would be onto them.

“Shirabu-”

“Shut up and walk.”

Semi’s gaze was already unsteady and he’d lost too much blood, limping, hanging onto Shirabu. They couldn’t keep going like this. They had to hide. But the only things in sight were brick walls on either side and a long stretch of cracked concrete, overrun with weed.

“Shirabu,” Semi rasped. “You have… You have to go.”

“No.”

Semi tried to push himself off but Shirabu held onto his waist tight, even when Semi hissed in pain. 

“Just…”

_No._ _No. No no no._ The words repeated in his head as Shirabu scanned around him frantically. He could already hear footsteps within the area, maybe only a turn away. In the headset, voices of his teammates yelled over one another in cacophony, swearing and warning each others of approaching enemies but Shirabu only heard Semi mumbling to leave him, growing weaker as Shirabu dragged him, forced him to _move, dammit!_

But the panic didn’t rise until Semi collapsed and Shirabu couldn’t keep him up anymore. They both went to the ground.

“Help,” Shirabu begged. “ _Please_. Semi-san is shot. We’ve nowhere to go.”

If anyone answered him, he did not hear. Not as both ends of the alley were suddenly blocked by enemy soldiers, holding them at a dozen gunpoint, not shooting but they were yelling something at him as they slinked closer. Shirabu didn’t understand, didn’t hear.

Semi went limp. Shirabu desperately pressed his hand over the wound on his side to staunch the blood, his own gun forgotten somewhere on the ground. His hand was already soaked but the bleeding wouldn’t stop. Semi was so pale and heavy, deadweight in his arms. He was breathing but barely, chest rising and falling in shallow movements and at any moment, that could stop.

Shirabu’s ears rang, shrill and loud, drowning out the whole world. He was back in what once was a living room, digging his mum out of the rubble and rebars, covered in blood and dust as guns ricocheted over screaming. Flames licked at the edges of his vision as his dad’s hand pushed through brick and debris and the thundering gunfire bled into sirens and into explosions that reverberated against his eardrums and smoke billowed from where his brothers’ room had given out onto the kitchen below.

A pale hand entered his vision, reaching for Semi and Shirabu struck it hard. They were in shadows now as figures towered around them. Something grabbed onto his shoulder and he yanked away, snatching the pistol from Semi’s belt before pain flared in his arm and he dropped it.

Hands reached for Semi again and Shirabu recognised the hoarse scratch in the back of his throat as if he was screaming but heard nothing as he held Semi tight, refusing to let them touch him. A blow on the side of his head made pain throb and his vision swim but they’d have to try to harder than that to get him to let go. They’d have to kill him first.

He kept his eyes on Semi, begging him to open those goddamned eyes and come back swinging. Semi could do it. He could kill all these bastards without breaking a sweat and he could get them both out of this.

Hands pulled at Shirabu, dragging him and Semi across the ground and another blow to the head made his vision black for a second. Then he had a terrifying realisation; Semi was going to die.

He felt his hands slipping and he yelled at himself to keep holding on. Semi needed him to protect him but his head was swimming, blackness seeping back into the vision of Semi’s face lying beside him, his limbs no longer responding to his commands. He blinked back the invading blackness, reaching for Semi again but somehow he was moving further away and the darkness would not leave, instead creeping further and further in.

There were hands dragging him up and away and he struggled against them. He was aware of his partial success when his body hit the ground again and he was aware of crawling back to Semi, unconscious and bleeding, and the darkness that narrowed his vision onto that one person because he had to get back. He had to protect Semi. He had to save him.

Shirabu was aware of shouting soldiers and opening gunfire, and he was aware of grabbing Semi’s hand before he collapsed too.


	9. Surrender - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, does anyone know the song these titles are taken from?

When Shirabu came to, the world was too bright and too loud but he knew exactly where he was by the sharp tang of disinfectant and the beeping noises of machines.

He shot to his feet, yelling, “Semi-san!”

Tendou and Goshiki were there to pull him back onto the bed, telling him to calm down. Shirabu struggled for all but one second before pain spiked up his arm and was forced to sit down again.

“You’ve been shot, Shirabu-san,” Goshiki said. “You shouldn’t move too much.”

His right arm was bandaged up in a sling and in his left arm was an IV. His head throbbed like someone was crashing it with cymbals and everything swayed a little bit when he looked up again. “Semi-san,” he repeated, voice cracking.

“He’s alive,” Tendou said but his face was grave. “He’s just finished surgery and he’s in the ICU now but he’s going to make it, thanks to you.”

“I need… I need to see him.”

Goshiki seemed to want to protest but Tendou only nodded and said, “I’ll call the doctor.”

The doctor, it turned out, was a senior whom Shirabu worked with during residency before transferring to the biotech department. She did not say much but had the distinct look of concern as she asked him questions, shone a light into his eyes and took another CT scan of his head. It was only then that Shirabu noticed the bandage around it.

He couldn’t remember but he probably took a blow on the head. He was immensely lucky he got out of that without any fractured bones but a concussion was likely and the doctor wanted to keep a close eye on him. If Shirabu was the doctor treating himself, he’d probably want that too but now he was just impatient for her to finish the check up and give him the all-clear to walk around.

When she was finally done, he didn’t wait for Goshiki’s out-stretched hand before getting onto wobbly feet and almost went down again if it weren’t for Goshiki hoisting him back up.

“Careful, Shirabu,” Tendou said. “You’ve been out for a few hours. Don’t want you going out again.”

Shirabu pushed himself onto his own feet. He knew these hospital hallways – he’d worked here for two years – but time seemed to drag as he weaved between patients and staff and shuffled to the ICU. At least it was easy to spot Semi’s room. Ushijima and Reon sat outside with a girl and a kid Shirabu couldn’t place immediately. Then he recognised their hair. 

Shiori stood when she saw Shirabu shuffle over and bowed deeply. Her younger brother followed suit. Semi might’ve mentioned his name before he couldn’t remember now nor tell which younger brother this was.

“Thank you so much for saving nii-chan.”

Shirabu didn’t know how to reply as he stared at them bent at the waist like he was deserving of such gratitude. He didn’t save him, not really. He couldn’t remember much but he remembered the feeling of Semi bleeding out in his arms and the terror from not being able to stop it. He remembered thinking Semi was going to die.

“How is he?” he ended up saying.

Shiori finally straightened. Closer up, Shirabu could see how pale she was. “He hasn’t woken up yet but he’s steady. Ma is with him right now.”

Shirabu glanced at the door, heart heavy in its cage. Shuffling closer, he peered through the glass panel to see a woman sitting by the bed with her back towards him. Beyond her was Semi, still as the last time Shirabu could remember him and hooked up to machines. He watched the slow but steady spikes on the heart rate monitor and the rise and fall of Semi’s chest, breathing.

He really was alive.

“You can go in,” Shiori said gently.

Shirabu shook his head. Then he faced Ushijima. “Does my dad know?”

“Not yet. We thought you might want to tell him yourself but Eita…”

Semi might not have had that chance. Shirabu swallowed hard.

“He’s very lucky, you know,” Reon said. “Any later and it could’ve been a lot worse.”

“What happened?” Shirabu asked. “How did we get out?”

With the exception of the Semi siblings, everyone stared at him in a way that made him feel like he was missing something.

“You don’t remember?”

He shook his head, which made a bout of dizziness tilt the world off its axis for a moment.

“Well,” Tendou started, “we think those guys were trying to take hostage or something because they had time to kill both of you two times over but they didn’t. Thankfully, Reon here was in time to bulldoze them down with the hover and extracted you guys while the rest of us got backup from a nearby garrison and managed to haul ass out of there. You did wake up for a little bit, you know, but the doctors had to put you back under because-” Reon’s elbow in his side stopped him and only gave a sheepish smile afterwards.

Shirabu remembered none of that, not even vaguely. Judging from his friends’ faces, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to know why he was put under. “Thank you. How is everyone else?”

“Taichi has a sprained ankle but no one else took damage like you two.”

“Speaking of damage,” Ushijima said. “Should you be standing around, Shirabu?”

He wanted to stay but he was also exhausted and hungry. Not to mention, Semi’s family was here and Shirabu didn’t want to intrude on that. Seeing his indecision, Reon placed a hand on his back.

“We’ll get you when he wakes up. Go take care of yourself.”

With one last look at the door, he reluctantly let himself be guided down the hall. Semi was alive and for now, that was enough.

~

The next day was full of constant monitoring and interrupted sleep. There was an exhaustion that Shirabu couldn’t shake and nausea after every meal, struggling to keep it down but he knew that would go away with time and rest.

His teammates came to visit, followed by Shiori and her mother, which proved to be an awkward time as they thanked him again for doing nothing. Semi-san made him soup that tasted better than anything he’d had at the compound and it was one of the few things he managed to keep down.

Semi was awake for a brief moment but he was asleep again by the time Shirabu made it there. This time, he let himself step into the room, let the reality of the situation fully settle.

“He’s a stubborn idiot,” Shiori said fondly, brushing Semi’s hair back. “Always so angry. I think he got better though, after he met you.”

“He feels responsible for everyone around him even at his own expense,” Shirabu said without meaning to, only realising the truth in his words when he spoke them. He willingly endangered himself to support his family. He always hovered around his teammates and looked after them. He made sure Shirabu took care of himself and most recently, he threw up a shield to protect Shirabu before himself.

“He is the oldest of five,” Shiori said.

“He almost died because he saved me,” he admitted.

Semi-san had gone back home to get a change of clothes and Shirabu wasn’t sure he could admit to her that she could’ve lost her son because of him. But Shiori. There was a reason Semi was closest to her and it was almost relieving to finally say it out loud.

Shiori just shrugged. “He would’ve done it for anyone.”

Shirabu liked to think so but after everything that had happened…

He turned back to the bed where Semi slept peacefully. Shirabu realised he’d never seen him sleep before. The near-permanent scowl disappeared, replaced by vulnerability that Shirabu want to wrap his arms around and write ‘fragile, handle with care’ _._

He touched Semi’s hand before he left. _Please wake up soon._

Shirabu called his dad in the evening and seriously downplayed the shitshow that was the last mission. He told him about his injuries only because he couldn’t hide it and within half an hour, he’d raced over from his hospital to the one Shirabu was at. He and Semi-san spent the whole evening fussing over him until visiting hours were over.

Then he was truly alone for the first time that day but fell asleep almost right away, woken a couple of hours later by his doctor. Shirabu was still not allowed to sleep for long just so the staff knew if anything went wrong. This time, however, he was woken for a different reason.

His feet carried him to the ICU faster than they had before and there was Semi, finally awake.

Shirabu’s hand trembled at the sight of him, eyes open, smiling softly. He placed his phone on the table next to him as Shirabu shuffled in stiffly.

“Hi,” Semi said.

“Hi.” He paused halfway into the room. “Were you calling your mum?”

“Yeah, the doctors just left so I figured I should let them know.”

Shirabu nodded, suddenly unsure where to look. Semi wore only a hospital gown, half his body covered by a blanket. Like this, it almost seemed as if nothing was wrong if it weren’t for his gaunt face.

“You look worse than I do,” Semi said, gesturing at the sling and bandage around his head.

“I wasn’t about to die.”

Semi chuckled quietly. “You said you would leave me if I fell asleep.”

Shirabu wanted to strangle him so badly that he took a few steps towards the bed. “Don’t joke about this.”

The smile slipped off his face. “Sorry.”

“Don’t. You don’t understand.”

Now Semi seemed to finally get what’s happening. “Shirabu, are you okay?

“No, I’m not. I was scared. I still am.” His hand was shaking and he grabbed the bedrails to hide it but Semi still saw.

He tried to sit up but stopped with a pained wince and clasped his cold hand over Shirabu’s instead. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m still here.”

“You said that before. You said you weren’t going to die but you came so close to it and I don’t know what I’d have done if you-” he had to cut himself off because a lump was rising in his throat and his eyes were hot with prickling tears that he blinked back furiously, staring up at the tiles on the ceiling.

Semi’s hand rose higher to his wrist as if he was trying to ground him. He said quietly, “Believe me, I know. I’m blaming myself right now for you getting hurt but it’s neither of our fault. We were just doing our job – our _dangerous_ job – and we got hurt. It’s as simple as that.”

“You know it’s not.”

Semi met his eyes, staring back for one heartbeat, two heartbeats– and then he sighed. He looked so tired. “Yeah. I know I’ve complicated some things between us and I won’t lie and say that my feelings didn’t affect the outcome of that damned mission but I’m only human. I won’t apologise for making you my priority.”

Shirabu almost choked. He thought about that leaping rabbit that was sitting back at the compound, on top of his pile of books. And Shirabu decided that he needed to stop running, just for a second and let Semi catch up to him.

He exhaled a deep, shaky breath. “Semi-san, I’m not… I’m not good at not being okay. I don’t like not having control of myself. You know that. But when you were bleeding out in my arms, I was…terrified in a way that I’ve only ever been once in my life. I felt lost.”

His grip tightened on the rails and Semi’s hand tightened on his arm, a thumb gently rubbing over the inside of his wrist. He gave a small nod for Shirabu to continue.

“I know that given what we do for a living, that has to change. I can’t worry over you like I’ve been doing lately.”

Apparently that was news to Semi but he didn’t say anything.

Every word was already becoming more and more difficult to get through but Shirabu kept going. “If the team is to keep functioning, we both have things to work through.”

Semi was always an open book but Shirabu had become better at knowing which lines to read. He saw the subtle dejection in his eyes, mouth thinning just a little bit.

“I don’t want to yet,” Shirabu said.

Semi raised an eyebrow in question.

“I don’t want to think about the team yet. I don’t care about it right now or the mission.”

“Thank you because I’m way too high on drugs to think about that at the moment,” Semi said, almost in relief but he clearly did not understand what Shirabu meant.

“Don’t get over me.”

Now a dumbfounded blink. “What?”

“I love you so don’t get over me.”

Another blink before his tired eyes seemed to light up. “Oh. Really?”

Shirabu rolled his eyes, face starting to radiate heat. “I won’t repeat myself. You should sleep again if you’re tired.”

Now there was a beaming smile on Semi’s face that made the fire in his chest grow, warm and bright.

“Stay here with me?” Semi said, patting the space next to him.

Shirabu shouldn’t indulge. The doctors and nurses were expecting him back at his own bed but when Semi was looking at him so hopefully, it was much more difficult to decline. He thought of the rabbit again and made his decision.

He unclipped the rails to put them down as Semi slowly manoeuvred himself to the side, making space. Shirabu’s heart pounded in his ears as he slid onto the same bed as Semi for what felt like the very first time, but familiar all the same. It was easy to lie next to him and be tugged closer as if they’d done it a thousand times before, burying his head into Semi’s neck and breathing in. Beneath the sterile scent of the hospital gown and the medication, there was something purely Semi, wild and earthy, and it brought more comfort than Shirabu had ever known.

Semi was here, his heart beating against the palm of Shirabu’s hand. Alive.

When they woke, there would questions to answer and a million things to work out but for now, they would sleep knowing there was a tomorrow to wake up to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that... Is the end. Thank you so much to everyone for reading this and for all your support. All your comments and kudos and tweets (I see you guys) have kept me going strong. 
> 
> I will most likely be expanding on this universe with other pairings so it's not truly goodbye for me yet. I also post snippets and previews on twitter and scream about semishira on a daily basis over there so please feel free to come yell with me [@casastella_](https://twitter.com/casastella_).


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